


Unintended

by emwebb17



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB 2014, F/M, M/M, brief mention of less than adequate lubrication, depictions of terrorist acts, switch Dean and Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 82,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emwebb17/pseuds/emwebb17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a successful defense attorney beginning to doubt the integrity of the work he does.  After winning a date with a firefighter named Dean at a charity auction, Cas decides that he needs to make a change in his life.  He just has one more case to take care of, but his involvement has devastating consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This work was written for the DeanCasBigBang 2014.
> 
> A huge thanks to the mods for running this awesome project.
> 
> A huger thanks to my betas [cheshire-kitten](http://chesh-kitten.tumblr.com/), ender4, and [Mini](http://sebstantialcrisis.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And the hugest thanks to my artist Selphix.
> 
> Two things:  
> As a heads up, a couple of people get handsy with Castiel, but it's not in the context of a relationship.  
> Uriel is a major player in this story, but he's in this vessel:
> 
>  

Dean secured his oxygen mask and then placed his helmet on his head.  He got a thump on the back from a colleague indicating his oxygen tank and other equipment were in place.  He glanced to his left and made eye contact through the thick plastic of his mask with Victor.  The man nodded and they headed into the burning apartment building together.  Dean carried an ax and Victor had the cordless circular saw to get through deadbolts.

The lights in the lobby were still on, but the smoke was thick enough to obscure almost everything.  The fire was more or less contained on the west side of the building, and the other companies on the scene were doing their best to keep it from spreading to the east side or to other nearby buildings.  Someone reported they had seen a person on the eighteenth floor on the east end of the building.  The cherry picker ladder on their truck could only reach the thirteenth floor, so they had to go up through the building.  In theory they should only have smoke to worry about in that wing, so they used their fire key to activate the elevator and ride it up to the eighteenth floor.

Dean nodded to the left side of the long corridor.  Victor nodded in understanding and went right.  He signed for Dean to stay in eye contact and did a radio check with him after they'd walked five feet away.  They banged doors as they walked down the corridor, listening for voices from within.  Dean turned knobs and was aggravated that most were locked.  He supposed if a fire had to breakout, the middle of a weekday was the best time since most people were out.  However, that meant a lot of locked doors behind which he didn't know if they were empty or somebody was trapped inside.

"Winchester," his name crackled in his ear.

"Yeah, go ahead, Vic."

"I've got scratching coming from number 1821.  I'm gonna check it out."

"Ten-four.  I'm almost done with this hall.  I'll come your way and back you up."

Dean pounded on the last door in the hallway on the left, no response.  He whacked the one on the right and the door swung inward as it hadn't been closed all the way.

"FDNY," Dean called out loudly.  "Is there anyone in here?"

"Over," cough, "over here."  The person coughed loudly again.

Dean hustled into the apartment, his adrenaline surging with the surprise at hearing a voice when he had expected none.  He quickly managed to tamp down the response and found the man on the floor in the bedroom.  He was partially under the bed and Dean dropped his ax and grabbed his legs to pull him out.  He squawked and coughed and turned partially over.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, blue eyes flashing and voice raw from the smoke.

"Saving your ass?" Dean snapped.  "What are you doing?!" he shouted in dismay as the guy tried to wiggle back under the bed.

"My cat!"

"For fuck's sake," Dean muttered under his breath.  He pulled the guy out again and dragged him far enough away that he could drop down to look under the bed.  He saw an orange tabby cat bunched in a tight ball against the wall.  Its pupils dilated in abject terror when it saw him in his equipment.  He reached a hand out and managed to grab its tail as it bolted.  It screamed and struggled to get away, but Dean kept his hold.  He gave it a tug and it turned around to attack him.  His thick coat and gloves prevented him from feeling anything and it enabled him to wiggle backwards and drag the screeching feline with him.  He got to his feet and thrust the wild thing into the man's arms.  He was coughing nonstop now and Dean made him bend over as they made their way back to the exit.

"Winchester!" Victor yelled in his earpiece.  "Where are you?"

"Apartment at the end of the hallway.  On my way out now with a breather.  And his fucking cat," he muttered.

"Are you at the end of the hall?"

"Yeah."  Dean felt the guy lean heavily on him, barely able to keep his feet, but he kept his hold on the panicking tabby.

"Go out the stairs," Victor said as Dean pulled the man through the door and into the smoky hallway.

"There are no stairs at this end.  What's up?"

"The fire started in the basement.  It made its way up the west side—"

"Yeah, saw that," Dean grunted as he hustled down the long corridor, slowed by the near dead weight of the barely conscious man.  But he kept a hold of that fucking cat.

"But the entire basement is engulfed.  It went up a duct line on your side and they think the interstitials are compromised."

"It's fine I'm almost—"

Dean felt the floor move before he heard the crack.  Then the noise was deafening, his stomach dropped out from under him, his heart leapt to his throat, and heat washed over him.  He fell—way too far he fell.  He hit something, but kept falling.  He had no idea if he was still holding the man and his cat or not.  He hit something else and pain exploded across the back of his head.  He landed with a crunch and more pain.  Something was broken.  Something was definitely broken.  He couldn't feel anything.  His mask was askew and thick smoke was clogging his throat and lungs.  Fire burned hot a few yards to his left.  There were more deafening noises and he could sense that heavy objects were falling around him.  He thought something landed on his legs.  But he didn't feel it.  Through the fog of pain, he did register that he couldn't feel his legs.  He couldn't see anything anymore, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the smoke or if he had his eyes closed—or because he couldn't see anything anymore.  The pain, mercifully, started to fade, but it was replaced with nausea.  He wanted to throw up, but he couldn't turn over.  He gave up.  And passed out.


	2. The Auction

**Three months earlier**

 

Castiel smiled pleasantly at the cop that had lost his temper about fifteen minutes ago, but had managed to keep it together until now.  The chair went flying across the room and Castiel dropped his eyes to scribble a reminder to file a complaint against the NYPD for unprofessional conduct and possibly assault.  A piece of the broken chair had clattered on the floor and bumped into his foot.

"Your client is a fucking murdering sick bastard!  You're going to let him walk on a goddamn technicality, you piece of shit _leech_?!"

Castiel tucked his notepad and pen into his briefcase, closed it, and stood up calmly, keeping his placid smile in place.

"Detective," Castiel said, voice serene but dangerously sharp.  "Six months ago you broke a rape shield law and leaked the name of a rape victim in order to draw out witnesses to convict a man who was later proven to be innocent with DNA evidence.  Two weeks ago your partner unlawfully entered—"

"A little boy's life was at stake!" the detective bellowed.

"—unlawfully entered an apartment and harassed a woman who had legal custody of the child in question.  Your precinct has some of the worst stop and frisk statistics in the entire department and you beat a confession out of a sixteen year old kid."

" _Allegedly_ ," the detective growled.

"The fact of the matter is that your precinct and you in particular, Detective Walker, have made a habit of making gross civil rights violations in order to solve your cases.  You don't seem to care about the law and the Constitution so long as you get your man, so maybe you should see what not obeying the Constitution gets you.  And that is the release of a man who more than likely raped and killed three women last month.  You can blame the slimy DA that got the scumbag off, or you can blame who is really at fault here."

Castiel stepped forward and put himself right in Walker's face.

"That's you, detective.  You had no right to enter that apartment and all evidence recovered after the fact _will be_ suppressed.  Without that evidence, you have no case.  And _that_ is _your_ fault."

"You are human waste, Novak.  We'll see if you're still singing the same tune when this guy targets someone you give a fuck about.  I heard he likes blondes.  Keep an eye on your sister, will ya?"

Castiel held his gaze, meeting his death glare with cold disgust.  Then he stepped around Walker and left the interview room.  He walked through the precinct, ignoring the heated glares from almost everyone in the room and inclined his head at the secretary at the front of the room.

"Please have the judge's order sent to Rikers.  I'll expect it to be waiting there when I arrive."

He heard muttered curses and mumbled threats as he walked out the doors.  He knew it would probably only be a couple of hours before the news made it back to the precinct.  Yes, Castiel had gotten the rape and murder charges dropped on his client, but he wasn't actually going to be leaving Rikers Island.  He'd been incarcerated for less than a week and he'd already killed an inmate and injured a prison guard in what many witnesses had said was _not_ self defense.  He'd probably get life, possibly spent in solitary, and wouldn't be released back onto the streets.  The fact that he got to screw with Detective First Class Gordon Walker was just a bonus.

Castiel walked down the stairs of the police precinct and onto the busy Manhattan sidewalk.  He didn't allow himself to think about what he would have done if the man hadn't killed the other prison inmate.  Because he still would have gotten the evidence suppressed.  That was the law he was duty bound to uphold, and he would have had to release the deranged psychopath back into the public.  It was a frightening thought, but cops who ignored the Constitution at every turn because they thought they were righteous were even more frightening.

His pocket buzzed just as he was descending the stairs leading down to the 6 train.  He walked back up and leaned on the rail as he answered the call from his office.  Alfie—and Castiel still wasn't sure how he'd gotten the nickname Alfie from Samandriel—was talking to someone in the office, his voice sounding tinny and distant.

"Alfie?  Alfie!"

"Oh, Castiel, hello.  Sorry, I didn't realize you'd picked up.  How did it go with Walker?"

"It was amazing.  He threw a chair."

"Oh, dear.  Not at your face I hope?"

"No.  Not this time anyway."

"So, did he feel ridiculous when you told him about the other charges?"

Castiel snorted.  "I didn't tell him about that."

Alfie gasped softly.  "Castiel," he scolded, though the laughter in his tone ruined its impact somewhat.

"What?  It hasn't been officially verified yet.  I didn't want to get his hopes up just in case something went wrong."

"You are so bad."

"Well, that's relative, isn't it?  So what's up?  Did you call just to ask about that?  I'm on my way back to the office now to pick up a car so I can drive out to Rikers."

"Oh, sorry.  Don't mean to hold you up.  But actually I was calling because I was wondering if you would want to come to a charity event with me."

Castiel sighed.  "Black or white tie?"

"Oh, neither.  Jeans and cash."

Castiel laughed.  "What?"

"I was at the courthouse today representing the mall smash and grabber..."

Castiel made a face.  "How did that go?"

"How do you think?  But anyway, I was talking with one of the other lawyers out in the lobby.  He's that family law specialist I told you about?"

"The one you tried to set me up with?"

"Uh...no, that was the guy who did corporate litigation.  This guy is straight.  Anyway, his name is Sam and we've gotten to know each other pretty well.  He went to Stanford and he likes dogs."

Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose and checked the time on his wristwatch.  "Alfie, what does this have to do with charity events?"

"Oh, right!  His brother is a fireman in Brooklyn.  And as a fundraiser they're doing a 'win a date with a hunk' kind of thing."

"What?" Castiel laughed, his mind filling with images of one of the worst pornos he'd ever seen—though those firefighters had known how to work a hose.

"Yeah, it's like a date auction.  But it's a little low tech, so you gotta bring cash.  Anyway, Sam said they're trying to get people to come who don't really know anyone who works in the firehouse otherwise he said it would be an almost incestuous event and very disturbing."

"Okay.  What does that have to do with me?  I'm not sure how appreciative a Brooklyn firefighter would be about being bought by a dude."

"You could bring Jess.  I mean, she needs to get out."

"I can't imagine a worse event to take her to."

"I can't think of a better one.  She loves firefighters."

"Because she was saved by one."

"Exactly.  Castiel, it's been three years."

"I know, but it's not our place to say when it's time for her to stop grieving."

"Well, she's not even trying.  So, maybe she does need someone to tell her, that you know, it's okay.  That it doesn't mean she's forgetting him or disrespecting him."

"Okay, I can suggest it to her.  When is it?"

"Um...tomorrow night?" Alfie said in a small voice.

Castiel sighed.  "Well, you haven't left me a lot of negotiation time."

"I know.  But I just found out about it.  Even if Jess doesn't come, please tell me you will.  I told Sam I would come.  Please don't make me go alone."

"Alfie—"

"Please!  Come on.  At the very least it will be a free bowl of chili and a show of hot shirtless guys."

"Free chili?"

"Well, it's ten dollars to get in, but I'll pay for your ticket."

"So generous."

"I am.  So, are you coming?"

Castiel almost sighed again, but it held it back.  He shouldn't even pretend to deliberate.  He had no plans tomorrow.  He had no plans for the foreseeable future outside of work.

"Yeah, I'll come."

"Yes!  Okay, I have to go to the third precinct to counsel a new client so I won't be here when you get back, but I will tell you to sneak in the back door because Naomi is pissed about the whole Gallagher situation."

Castiel frowned.  "That has nothing to do with me."

"It might.  I think she's going to put you on the brother's case now."

"Wait, what?  The brother's case?"

"Yeah, he's blaming him for the girlfriend's death."

Castiel groaned.  "God, I don't want to deal with that."

"Oh, you haven't heard the best part yet.  The prosecutor is saying they're both in on it, and they're pointing the finger at each other to create reasonable doubt."

Castiel raised an eyebrow.  "Well, that could work."

"Exactly.  That's why we have to keep their cases separate, but ask for a joint trial.  Oh, crap.  Seriously, I gotta run.  But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?  I'm taking the 4 to get there and getting off at Franklin Ave.  There might be a station more convenient for you, but I'm not familiar with the area."

"That's fine.  I'll meet you outside the Franklin station.  What time?"

"It starts at seven, so maybe 6:45?"

"Sure.  I'll see you then."

"And try to get Jess to come."

"I will.  Good luck with your new client."

"Yeah, thanks.  Bye."

Castiel slipped his phone back into his pocket and hurried down the steps to the underground subway station.  He was just going to bypass the office altogether and go straight to the garage.  It was Friday afternoon and he still had to drive all the way out to Rikers—no way was he going to get stuck in a two hour meeting with Naomi discussing what was going to be done about Gallagher and Weems.  As far as he was concerned he'd already cleared Andy, but if the prosecution found grounds on which to press charges, his autumn was going to be royally fucked.

~~~

Castiel unlocked the door to his apartment and trudged tiredly inside, fumbling for the light switch on the wall.  When he found it he dropped his keys in the bowl on the table by the door and just managed to flick the mechanism on the door lock before he released the knob.  He didn't bother with the deadbolt and dropped his suitcase and jacket and removed his shoes, leaving a trail from the door to the couch.  He flopped face down onto the soft leather and grunted as his legs hung over the side.  He knew he should have been a dentist.

He shuffled and grumbled and squirmed over onto his back.  He let out a sigh at the effort that had taken, and then dug into his pants pocket for his cell phone—it wasn't there.  He felt the other pocket and then his back pockets.  He raised his head and saw his suit coat laying on the floor by the door.  He dropped his head back onto the couch.

"Shit."

He was still debating whether or not he really wanted to get up and retrieve the phone when his landline rang.  It took only a few sideways wriggles to get him close enough to the end table to grab the handset.  He checked the caller ID and raised his eyebrows.  He pushed the talk button and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Jess.  Believe it or not I was just about to call you."

"Must be our psychic twin connection thing."

"We're not twins, Jess.  Technically, we're not even related."

"Semantics.  So, how was your day?  Did you release any scourges onto humanity?"

"Nope.  Not today anyway.  How about you?  Did you get any giant corporations an obscene amount of money at the expense of some poor single mother?"

" _No_.  It was a college student who was stealing their intellectual property."

"Mm-hmm.  'Intellectual' is questionable."

"Hush.  Oh, before I forget, do you want to go in with me to buy that screenplay writing software for Dad for his birthday?"

Castiel repressed a yawn.  "Yeah, sure.  Sounds good."

"Should we get him separate gifts though?"

"Why?"

"Well, we make enough money that we don't really need to split the cost of gifts anymore."

"Eh.  Oh!" Castiel became wide awake with the news he remembered he had to tell his sister.  "Did I tell you?  Dad broke up with Becky again."

"What?  Why?  Oh my God, don't tell me he went back to—"

"Joshua?  Yep.  They're 'gardening' again.  I mean, are we crazy for thinking that there's more going on there?"

"At this point—I don't know what to think anymore.  Dad's so fucked up."

"I know, right?  Well, at least that means we come by it honestly."

Jess chuckled.  Then sighed softly.  "Speaking of which—"

"Don't.  I don't want to talk about Inias.  We broke up over a year ago, Jess."

"No, I know.  I promise I'm done asking about him.  Even though you work with him every single day and made out with him in the copy room two weeks ago."

Cas sat up, blushing furiously and his heart hammering in his chest.  "Who told you that?!  And it's not true!  We didn't—it was just a little, tiny, meaningless, friendly, slightly gropey kiss—you know what?  Shut up.  Who told you?"

"Hester of course.  But like I said I'm not going to ask you about it.  I was going to talk about me."

Cas closed his lips on his next protestation of semi-innocence.  He leaned over to switch on the lamp on the end table to illuminate the room as if that would somehow help him understand his sister better.

"Um.  What does that mean?  Have you met someone?"

"No, I haven't."

Cas slumped a little.  "Oh.  Of course not.  I wasn't implying—”

"Cas, it's okay.  Relax.  I know I've been...very slow to get back to living."

"Jess, what you went through—”

"I know, Cas.  But it's been three years.  And I'm tired.  I'm tired of feeling sad and I'm tired of feeling bad.  I really, really want to start living my life again."

Cas felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "That's great, Jess.  Really.  I'm glad to hear it.  So, you want to do that cooking class with me after all?"

"No.  Well, actually, yes, I do.  But that's not what I'm talking about.  I think I need to start dating again."

"Really?"

"It's been long enough.  I miss having someone to talk to and go out with.  I miss having someone who takes up as much of my time as I do of theirs, you know?  I know I put a strain on you and my friends."

"Jess, you don't—"

"I do.  And I know it.  I'm not making this decision to try to replace Raphael.  I genuinely want to start dating again.  And quite frankly, my vibrator just isn't doing it for me anymore."

"Oh, Jesus, Jess!"

"I wanted to impress upon you how serious I am about this."

"Consider me pressed into the ground."

Jess laughed softly.  "I just don't want all of my memories of love to be sad, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that.  I think it's great that you want to get back in the game.  I'd be more than happy to pimp you out."

"Well, thanks for that!" Jess said with an indignant laugh.  "So, I guess that means you have someone you could set me up with?"

"Actually, I do.  There's a guy in my office named Ezekiel who I think you'd really hit it off with."

"Great.  So, um—should we set up a date, or should I come to the office and meet him first?"

"Probably the latter, but we're not going to do that right away."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll never seriously date the first guy you get back into the game with.  We've got to ease you into dating again.  A simple one date expectation with no strings attached."

"Okay.  What do you suggest?"

"A firefighter, little sister."

"Uh...what?"

"Alfie wants me, us actually, to go to a charity auction event at a fire station in Brooklyn.  The items up for auction?  Hunky firefighters."

"I dunno, big brother.  That sounds more up your alley, Captain Hot Pants."

"I _knew_ you watched that video!"

Jess burst out laughing.

"You freak.  Who watches their brother's porn?"

"Alright, alright.  Take it easy.  So, you're suggesting I _buy_ a date?"

"No, of course not.  It'll be my treat."

Jess laughed again.  "Great.  My brother is going to buy my hook up.  That's not weird at all."

"Date, Jess.  _Date_.  No one said anything about hooking up.  And apparently we'll be helping raise money for our fearless first responders."

"I still think this is more your thing than mine."

"Maybe, but for some reason I don't think there are too many out firefighters in Brooklyn."

He could hear Jess shrug on her end of the line.  "Maybe, maybe not.  But, I guess since it's for a good cause, and my big brother is paying, how could I refuse the chance to select my very own Grade A, prime beefcake of a fireman?"

"Atta girl.  Oh, this thing is tomorrow.  Please tell me you're free?"

"Yeah, I can do that.  Are we driving?"

"I told Alfie I'd meet him at the subway.  I'll swing by your place at six o'clock and we can ride out together."

"Are you sure we can't drive?"

"Into Brooklyn?  Really?  And then try to find parking?"

"Fine, fine.  At least can't we take a cab out there?"

Cas considered for a moment.  "Yeah.  But not a city taxi.  I'll call a car service."

"Great.  I'll see you at six.  And gosh are we snobby."

Cas laughed, a little embarrassed himself.  "Yes, we are, darling sister.  See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

"Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're taking this step.  I'm proud of you."

There was silence for a moment and Cas worried his bottom lip with his teeth, wondering if he'd just broken through his sister's facade and she was about to renege on the whole thing.  Then she said in a small voice, "Thank you."

"I love you, Jess."

"I love you too, big brother."

Cas pulled the phone away from his ear and turned it off.  He sat on the couch for a few moments, wondering if all this was going to blow up in his face again.  Granted it had been a very long time since the last time he had tried to get Jess out in the world, and it had been her idea this time.  Maybe she really was ready.  And even if she wasn't, he was still going to try—and be there for her if shit hit the fan.

~~~

Saturday mornings weren't guaranteed to be relaxing for defense attorneys.  If they had court scheduled for Monday, the weekend was typically spent reviewing case files, drafting motions, checking on subpoenas, making phone calls, and answering emails.  And for some reason criminals couldn't seem to grasp that getting arrested on weekends was very inconvenient for their court appointed lawyers.  Fortunately Castiel had been assigned his pro bono case last week when some poor black kid had been picked up for selling weed behind his school.  He was determined not to let the unfair sentencing laws take this kid down and had, in a fit of insanity, promised him he wouldn't face any jail time.  That wasn't something he could guarantee of course, but he was willing to call in a few favors if he had to.  Too many rich white kids had gotten off for possession of coke in the last month alone; he wasn't going to let Aaron Birch suffer unfairly because he was poor and black.  Sometimes he hated the country whose constitution he worked so hard to defend.

The only good thing about Aaron Birch's arrest is that it put Castiel back at the bottom of the call list.  The Finnerman Firm typically only took on clients that could afford to pay to have their guilt swept under the rug, but in order to help create a good public image and build rapport with the circuit court judges, the firm took on one or two pro bono cases a month, representing clients who otherwise would have been assigned a public defender who more often than not were complete incompetents.  Aaron's case hadn't found a spot on the docket for another week yet, and since he'd taken care of the psychopath at Rikers yesterday, this was the first time in a long time that he fully anticipated having the entire weekend to himself.  What a horrifying thought.  Thank God he'd agreed to go to this charity auction thing with Alfie.  He couldn't imagine having to keep himself preoccupied without work as an option.

He still had several hours to fill before he picked up Jess, so he went for a long run and took an indefensibly long shower.  He stalled some more by taking the time to make an egg white omelet and hand juiced a pink grapefruit.  He ate slowly and washed every dish thoroughly.  He looked at the time: 9:30am.  Maybe he shouldn't have gotten up at six.

He opened the doors to his closet and looked at his rows of suits and chinos and button down shirts.  He remembered Alfie saying the charity event was a jeans kind of thing.  He didn't own a pair of jeans.  Would he stand out like a sore thumb if he showed up in his usual wardrobe?  Even the "casual" version of it?  He didn't want to be judged by a bunch of blue collar Brooklynites for being a prissy Manhattanite.  And he didn't even want to think about what it said about him that he was worried about that.  He had the time and he needed a distraction, so he decided to go shopping.

~~~

Castiel stood in front of a literal floor to ceiling wall of men's jeans.  There were dozens of different cuts, fits, and washes to choose from.  He could have sworn when he was a kid there was just the one choice: blue jeans.  Now he didn't even know where to start.  With flushed cheeks and awkward mumbling he'd had to conscript an employee who was half his age to help him select a few styles to try on.  Even more embarrassingly he'd had to ask the kid's opinion on whether or not he had the right size as almost all of them felt way too tight.  After being asked if he could squat in them, and answering yes, he'd been told that they were not too tight but actually the right size.  Castiel wondered if he was being teased and set up to walk around like a fool in public, but the kid had grinned when he'd come out in the last pair and told him that his ass look great in the snug denim.  Looking over his shoulder in the mirror, he did have to admit that he was glad he got back into his running routine again after wallowing like a pathetic slug for three months after his break up with Inias.

He agreed to buy the jeans and figured even if he only wore them once, it might be worth it to look good in front of a bunch of strapping firefighters.  There was a chance one of them like dudes, right?  Even if he wouldn't act on those feelings, at least he'd be able to enjoy looking at how nice Cas' butt looked in his new jeans.  Somehow though, he didn't leave the store with just the one pair of jeans, but with three pairs of jeans and fours shirts that cost him no less than six hundred dollars.  He didn't remember jeans costing over a hundred dollars a pair.  Of course the last time he'd bought a pair of jeans he'd been a kid with his mom shopping at Sears.  He knew a Sears wardrobe in their childhood is what had made Jess spend half of her seven figure salary every year on designer label clothes.  Cas' suits were designer as well, but he settled for Calvin Klein and Hugo Boss and didn't feel the need to wear Prada or Valentino.  Though his tuxedo was Tom Ford.

Even after shopping Castiel still had too much time to kill, so he broke down and researched cases like Aaron's that showed precedence for leniency.  What he really wanted was to get the case dropped altogether, but he didn't really have the best relationship with the NYPD.  He'd helped one too many sleazeballs walk for that to be a possibility.

He finally decided to head over to Jess' a little early in case he needed to spend some time convincing her to go if she had decided to back out.  The doorman at her building actually stopped him on his way in, not recognizing him in his new clothes.  He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  When Jess opened the door to her apartment, Castiel was pleasantly surprised to find her dressed and ready to go, as opposed to huddling under a quilt with a pint of Ben and Jerry's in her hand like the last time he'd tried to get her to go out.  She wasn't a complete hermit, she did have to go to outside to make court appearances, but other than that she hid in her apartment and avoided crowds at all costs.  Tonight she was wearing a cute yellow and white summer dress, perfect for the warm, muggy air of a New York City summer night, and wore her long blonde hair down around her shoulders instead of up in its usual tight bun.

Castiel opened his mouth to comment on how happy he was to see her looking good and ready to go out, but her eyes bugged out and her jaw dropped.  Shit.  Had the implications of going out finally hit her and now she was thinking she'd made a mistake?  Then she grinned.

"Holy crap, Cas.  Really wish you weren't my big brother because you are _fine_!"

"Wha—”  Cas was confused and then he blushed hotly.  "The hell, Jess?  Shut up.  Oh my God."

Jess laughed and stepped back so he could enter her apartment.  He made a face and put his hands behind himself to cover his butt as he realized she was letting him enter so she could see his backside.

"Don't be creepy."

"Creepy?  I'm stunned!  Where did you find those clothes?"

"I don't know.  Some store called Diesel."

"You shopped at Diesel?"  Jess said with a raised brow and skeptical tone.

"It's where my phone said they sold jeans."

Jess smiled and shook her head.  "Well, they look really great on you.  And I'm always a sucker for a man in a Henley.  The grey looks good on you.  And who knew you could fill out a Henley so well?"

"Apparently the kid who works at Diesel."

Jess grinned.  "So, are you going to be shopping for a date tonight after all?"

"No.  I just didn't want to stand out wearing chinos and a button down to a fire station."

"And you thought looking like a hot piece of ass wouldn't make you stick out?"

"It's just clothes.  Jesus."  Cas crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from his sister.  Jess immediately dropped her teasing attitude and stepped close, rubbing his arm.

"Hey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad.  You look good.  It's a great outfit."

"Yeah, thanks.  This is why people should never try new things."

"Hmm.  You're right.  I better change back into my PJs and get out my VHS tapes of _North and South_.  That's a good eighteen hours worth of entertainment right there."

"No, no, no.  These jeans were expensive and you look amazing.  We are going out, we are objectifying men who look good because they save lives every day, and you are getting a date with one of them."

Jess took Cas' hand and gave it a little squeeze to help steady the slight trembling in her fingers.  She nodded.

"You're right.  Let's go treat some fellow human beings like chattel."

Cas laughed softly and leaned his forehead against hers.  "It's a good thing we're not human rights lawyers."

"I know," she replied.  "We'd be terrible at it."  She inhaled deeply, shakily.

"You can do it, Jess.  We'll be out in the open and we'll take the bridge to Brooklyn, not a tunnel, okay?  And even when we get inside the fire station, it won't be that crowded.  Just a social gathering.  And hey.  We'll be surrounded by firefighters.  You'll be safe."

Jess gave a little shake of her head.  "There's no such thing as safe."

Cas sighed softly, sadly.

"But that can't keep me from living my life anymore.  I'm not any safer here than I am there.  So, there's no reason to stay here."

Cas pulled back and looked her in the eyes.  "Only if you're sure."

"Are you trying to talk me out of this?" Jess said, voice rising in pitch.  "I'm trying to pull myself together here and you're supposed to be encouraging me!"  She slapped his arm and Cas laughed.

"Oh, right, sorry.  Yes, you're right.  Die here, die there—at least there you'll be surrounded by beefcake."

Jess turned away from him and grabbed her purse and a light, gauzy wrap.  She glowered at him as she opened her front door.

"You suck at this."

"I know."

"Did you stop by the ATM yet?"

"Yep.  Don't worry.  You bid as much as you need in order to snag your dream guy."

"Well, at least my one night long dream guy."

"You don't know that," Cas said as he waited for Jess to lock her deadbolt.  "You could meet _him_ tonight, you know?  And you'll wind up buying a charming brownstone in Brooklyn and send your kids Madison and Cristophe to a wildly expensive private school on Manhattan."

Jess raised an eyebrow at him as they stepped onto the elevator.

"That's your compromise for having to live in Brooklyn.  The kids go to school on Manhattan."

"Mm-hmm."

"And your husband, Gino—”

"Gino?"

"He's an Italian firefighter from Brooklyn.  Of course his name is Gino.  You and Gino will never quite fit in each other's worlds, but you'll make a new world that belongs to you both.  He'll rescue a kitten from a fire one day and bring it home.  You'll get his mobster brother out of jail for the third time."

Jess tossed her hair as she stepped off the elevator and into the lobby.  "That is ridiculous, Castiel.  Good evening, Robbie," Jess greeted her doorman as he held the door open for her.

They stepped out into the warm evening and the car they had ordered was waiting for them.  The driver held the door open for Jess and she slid in with a look aimed at her brother.

"I would never name my child Madison."

The door shut and Castiel laughed as he made his way around to the driver's side to hop in the back.

They arrived almost fifteen minutes before Alfie appeared out of the bowels of the transit system, and Cas was starting to doubt the wisdom of wearing denim on such a muggy night.  The humidity was getting worse by the minute and Cas wondered if the weatherman was right and the approaching storm would hold off until tomorrow or if they would get drowned on their way home tonight.

Alfie hopped up the stairs looking like a high school kid in his jeans and T-shirt and with a happy-go-lucky smile.  He looked around the sidewalk, his eyes sliding over Cas and Jess one, twice, and then his eyes jerked back to them.  He walked over with shock written all over his expression.

"Whoa.  I mean, wow," Alfie said.  "You guys look—not like you.  I mean you look good!  But.  I had no idea you two were—” Alfie groped for a word.  "People?"

"Thank you," Cas said dryly.

Alfie shrugged.  "You two are such lawyers.  Like, always dressed like people on TV who aren't really real and—”

"Alfie," Jess interrupted him.  "We got it.  But keep talking and it won't be flattering anymore."

Alfie smiled awkwardly.  "Right.  You know, Judge Mosley said that I talk too much too."

"Shocking," Jess said.  "Now care to lead the way?  My hair is starting to break out of the no-frizz gel I slathered on it."

"Oh right, sorry.  It's this way."

They followed Alfie across the street and Cas muttered that the fire station had better have air conditioning.  Cas' wish was far from reality as he realized the event was being held in the large room that normally housed the fire trucks that were currently parked out on the street and ready to roll in case a call came in.  The large door was rolled up leaving the whole room open to the elements.  Christmas lights were strung up around the space and one side had folding tables set up with a line of people happily chatting away as they were served chili in Styrofoam bowls and soda in plastic cups.  Cas wasn't sure it was even worth the ten dollar cover charge, but he figured it was for charity more than quality.  He batted Alfie's hand away as he tried to pay for them, and handed the collector—a very cute blonde with mischievous eyes—a twenty to cover Jess and himself.  He let Alfie and Jess go ahead to get in line so he could hang back and find out the cute girl's name was Jo.  He quickly joined them when he found out the girl was college aged.  More than a ten year age gap seemed to be just on the wrong side of the "age doesn't matter" argument.

Once they had their chili and drinks, the trio found seats toward the back and close to one of the large standing fans doing its best to circulate the warm, slightly stifling air.  It was also near the wide opening out of the building, which gave Jess peace of mind since the crowd was larger than they had expected.  About twenty tables were crammed into the space and a makeshift stage had been constructed out of storage trunks around the slide pole that disappeared through a hole in the ceiling to the upper level.

"I didn't know firemen still used actual sliding poles," Cas said.

"It is the fastest way to get downstairs," Alfie shrugged.

"I really hope they put the stage around it because they expect the firefighters to use it for tonight's show," Jess mused and then licked her plastic spoon.

Alfie laughed and Cas closed his eyes around a small groan.  Jokes like that just weren't the same when his sister was the one making them.  Cas took a bite of his chili.  It was good.  Spicy, but good.  He still wasn't sure it was worth ten dollars though.

"Alfie!"

Cas looked up as a voice called his friend's name.  His eyes went wide as he watched a man approach them with a big smile.  He was tall and lightly muscled, which his red T-shirt highlighted nicely.  He had longish brown hair and a very handsome face.  Maybe he was one of the firemen up for auction tonight.  Then Cas shook himself as he remembered he was here to get a date for Jess, not for himself.

Alfie stood as the man reached their table, so Cas and Jess did as well.  Alfie and the man shook hands and gave each other a bro hug with one arm each in between their chests.

"Jess, Cas, this is my friend, Sam Winchester.  The lawyer who specializes in family law.  Sam, these are my friends Castiel Novak and Jess Finnerman.  Castiel is a defense attorney and Jess does corporate law.  Cas and I are here to get Jess a date tonight."

Cas grinned at Jess's slightly outraged face.  "Alfie," she hissed.

Sam laughed and said, "Well, you could not have picked a better place to go looking.  Trust me, the guys here are really great.  Ugly as heck, but great personalities."

They all laughed at what they hoped was a joke and made a little more small talk before Sam excused himself to go get in the food line.

"Oh, hey, Sam," Alfie called after him, "is your brother doing the auction tonight?"

"Yep," Sam confirmed with a wicked smile.  He winked at Jess and then disappeared into the crowd.  There was a very loud buzz of voices and a general sense of excitement in the air that made just being a part of it fun.  They were soon joined by four other people who crowded at their table, looking for space to eat and everyone introduced themselves and chatted like they were just old friends who hadn't had a chance to catch up in awhile.

After about an hour, the lights in the back of the room dimmed slightly and a voice crackled over the intercom.  The cheering and whistles of the excited crowd drowned out the announcer for a moment.  Then everyone quieted enough to hear a female voice clear her throat before starting again.

"Hello!  We'd like to thank everyone for coming out to Fire Station Four's seventh annual Win a Date with a Certifiable Hottie Charity Auction!"

There was cheering but also some grumbling, which confused Cas until the announcer said, "Get over it!  We're not changing the name!"

The crowd laughed, and some grumbled, but the atmosphere was still all in good cheer and fun.  Cas finally spotted the announcer standing just to the right of the makeshift stage.  She was a pretty woman, probably about ten years older than himself, and definitely carried herself with a no nonsense attitude.

"Now for those of you who are new, let me explain how this works.  One by one our studs will come out.  You lovely people will shout out how much a date with them is worth.  And when you win, visit Jo and Adam over there—” The cute blonde and a young man Cas assumed was Adam stood up at a table set to the side of the stage and waved "—and pay up!  And that's all there is to it.  See something you like, make a bid, pay up.  Everyone got it?"

The people in the room cheered and it was predominantly female voices leading the charge now.

"And cash only, people.  We're not Macy's.  Now, without further ado, let's bring out our first hunk!"

The cheering and whistling was even louder.  Cheesy burlesque music started blaring over the PA and Jess giggled and covered her eyes.

"No one's on stage and I'm already embarrassed!"

"What, come on, Jess!" Alfie nudged her.  "You can't bid if you don't look."

"I'll bid," said Cas.  "You just tell me when."

Jess moved her hand to her blushing cheek and peeked over at the stage in time to see a young man slide down the pole and onto the stage in a bulky fireman's coat and helmet.

"First up, we have the scrappy driver of truck one—Garth the Gallant!"

The man threw off the coat and the crowd cheered wildly and Cas just started laughing.  Garth had to be the scrawniest firefighter he had ever seen.  He wondered if the guy could even lift all the equipment a firefighter was required to wear when entering a building.  But at the very least he did put on a show.  He grabbed the pole and spun around, dropping his head back and raising a leg into the air.  The crowd hooted and hollered at him and Jess laughed.  Cas felt like tonight was already a success even if Jess left without a date.  It had been a long time since he'd seen Jess so openly happy, color high in her cheeks, and life in her eyes.  He owed Alfie for this.

"Garth's date will include dinner for two at the best pizzeria in all of Brooklyn and a movie of his date's choice.  Who will give me twenty dollars for this dreamboat?"

Cas raised his eyebrows at the low starting price.  Either they really had no confidence in Garth's marketability, or no one was expecting anyone to go for very much.  Maybe he had gotten too much money out of the ATM.  After some light bidding and goading from the announcer, Garth went for seventy-five dollars and everyone cheered wildly like that had been an impressive ending bid.  Maybe his idea of prices on auctions was skewed by the fact that the ones he went to usually required a tux and purchasing a five hundred dollar plate of food just to get in the door.

"Next we have Vivacious Victor!"

A man slid down the pole from the ceiling and he looked much more in line with what Cas had been expecting.  He was tall and muscular and strutted to the front of the stage where he stood and crossed his arms over his chest, muscles bulging, and his dark skin shining gloriously in the lights.  He looked stoically out at the crowd, clearly above all the hootenanny going on around him.  Cas could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  He looked over at Jess.

"Looks like your type," he smirked.  Then he was struck with a sudden sharp fear that reminding her of her dead husband would ruin the whole night.  His nerves were calmed when she returned the smirk.

"Yours too, big brother," she reminded him of Cas' brief and turbulent relationship with Raphael's younger brother, Uriel.

Cas flushed a little remembering that ill thought out relationship.  He and Uriel couldn't have been more different, and definitely not in the opposites attract kind of way.  But the sex had been great.  Cas scowled at her and raised his hand.

"Fifty!" he shouted.

The noise in the room quieted a little bit as everyone turned to see who had bid.  Cas could see the man on stage raise an eyebrow at him.  He pointed a finger at his sister who gasped and hid behind her hands.  The man smiled and nodded and the room erupted into noise again.

"Victor's date is a home cooked meal in the firehouse and a demonstration of how to use a big massive hose!"

Victor made a face at the description but the room erupted into laughter and catcalls.  It also succeeded in getting the bidding started again.  Bids came from all parts of the room and Cas raised his hand at eighty and again at ninety-five.  A woman in the middle of the room got to her feet yelled out, "One fifteen!"  Then her friends shoved some money at her, she counted it quickly and said, "One forty-five!"  She tossed a triumphant look back in their direction.  Cas was amused.  Clearly she had no idea what she was up against.  He started to raise his hand, but Jess put hers on top of his.

"Oh, let her win.  She had to beg, borrow, and steal from her friends.  She earned him."

Cas shrugged and then shook his head when the auctioneer looked at him.

"Going once!  Going twice!  Sold to Miss von Schilling!  Pay up, Lilith, and then go collect your man!"

The woman made her way over to Jo and Adam, and Victor tossed a wistful look in Jess' direction as he hopped off the storage crates.  Apparently he wasn't thrilled with the idea of a date with Lilith.  The auction continued on with the bids mostly staying friendly and no one going for less than seventy-five dollars.  Cas was even surprised to see a woman slide onto the stage.  She was young and gorgeous and had great legs, so Cas bid on her for himself.

"Hey, hey!" Jess said, "Don't waste my money on yourself!"

"Your money?" Cas grumbled, but let someone else win the date of a picnic in Central Park with Tracy.

The more people came out and Jess shook her head at, the more Cas wondered if she was going to say no until they were all gone.  Perhaps when faced with the idea of winning a date with a stranger in reality, it didn't seem like such a good idea.  Until _he_ slid down the pole.

Cas actually sat up straight.  Because holy fuck he'd never seen someone so pretty and still so masculine.  He was tall, broad through the shoulders, and had a killer smile.  Cas' heart was scampering around his chest like a boy trying to ask his crush for a dance at a middle school semi-formal.  He didn't even need to know what the date entailed as long as it involved this guy—Dean, the announcer identified him.  Then he remembered that he wasn't here for himself.  He swallowed and glanced at his sister.  She gave a big thumbs up and Alfie laughed.

"Don't let your sister down, Cas!"

Cas nodded, determined to win the firefighter—for his sister.  Right.  The bidding began in earnest and Cas was right there with them, so overeager he actually bid against himself once.  The prices went higher than they had for any other person that night.  Dean wasn't even doing anything to up the ante.  He just leaned against the pole with his arms crossed and grinned as his eyes jumped back and forth between Cas and the woman near the front who was his only competition now.  They'd passed three hundred dollars and the audience was egging them on to go higher.  Cas was just getting annoyed with the woman.  He was going to win Dean, there was no question about it, so why did she keep delaying the inevitable?  They hit four hundred dollars and the crowd "oo-ed" at how high the price was getting.  Cas was fed up.  He stood up.

"One thousand dollars," he said.

The room went quiet.  Completely silent.  Cas would have been more self-conscious and embarrassed, but his eyes were locked with the woman's, daring her to go higher.  The auctioneer looked at the woman as well.

"Annie?" she asked, probably just to be polite.

The auburn haired woman gawked at Cas.  And then she shook her head, clearly unable to top that.

"Well, how about that?  Sold for one thousand dollars!"

The crowd screamed and cheered and Cas was jolted back to himself as he realized what he'd just done.  He looked at his sister.  She was fighting back a grin.  He looked at Alfie.  He was not fighting his grin or trying to hide the laugher in his eyes.  He looked at the other people at their table.  They had their eyebrows raised.  Then a woman said, "You, sir, are a good brother."

"Oh, the best," Jess said.

"Shut up," Cas mumbled and used the excuse that he had to go pay up to escape from the snickering.  He made his way to the front of the room as the next person up for auction told the room he was expecting nothing less than a thousand and one dollars for him or he was going to cry.  Everyone laughed at him and someone tossed an empty cup at him.

"Hey!  I'm worth at least a filled cup, buddy!"

The good natured shouting and bidding was back in place and Cas was relieved his outrageous bid hadn't made everything uncomfortable.  And if anyone asked him about it, he'd just say he was very passionate about supporting first responders.  He pulled his wallet out when he reached the table and tried to avoid eye contact with Jo as he counted the bills in his wallet.

"That was some serious bidding," Jo said, the grin in her voice just as blatant as the one on her face.

"Yeah, well," Cas mumbled and handed the bills to her.

"Yeah, I'm totally flattered."

Cas' head snapped up.  Mortification set in.  There was the guy.  Standing behind Jo.  The guy he had bought for a thousand dollars.  God he was even more beautiful up close.  His eyes were green.  Green eyes.  Honest to God green, sparkling eyes and those lips—shit.  This was for his sister.  He better clear that up really quickly in case the guy was not amused that he'd been bought by a dude.  He opened his mouth and even started to partially turn to point at Jess when the man said, "I hope you're that aggressive in other aspects of your life."

Cas froze.  Jo snorted and nudged her collection partner.  He laughed softly as he double checked Jo's count of the money.  Cas stared at the guy—Dean.  Had he just implied that he wouldn't mind if Cas had bought him for himself?  The way Dean's eyes drifted down slowly over his body, and then back up again—lingering on his lips before finally making eye contact told Cas that yes, Dean was definitely okay with that.

Cas' mouth was dry, which was fine because he wouldn't have been able to form words anyway.  Jo gave a thumbs up and said, "We're good."

Dean walked around the table, pulling a sticker off his blue FDNY T-shirt that read, "I'm Dean Winchester's date!" and smacked it firmly onto Cas' chest.  He rubbed his hand over the sticker, probably to make sure it stayed on and probably not to feel him up.  Then he smiled, suddenly and inexplicably shyly.  Cas smiled back, feeling better now that he saw beneath a bit of the swagger.

"See you later," Dean said and walked over to the food table.  He gathered up about five cookies in his large hands and Cas wondered when they had put out dessert.  He would have picked up a couple for Jess and Alfie, but the thought of moving to stand near Dean again made him feel a little too fluttery.  He made his way back to their table and Alfie laughed at the sticker on his chest.  Cas sat down and spread his hands out on the plastic tablecloth.  Then he looked up at Jess.

"Um, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, I'm going to have to get you a different date."

Jess' smile disappeared immediately.  "Oh, no, what happened?  I saw you talking to him.  Is he a total jerk?  Did he pitch a fit because he thought you bought him for yourself at first?  You know I won't date a homophobe.  Not even for charity."

"Not, it's not that.  It's just um.  Well."  He pointed to the sticker on his chest and then laughed softly.  "I'm sorry but he's mine."

Jess' jaw dropped and Alfie cackled.  Everyone else at the table was too focused on the person on stage to notice what he had said.  Jess snapped her mouth shut and sat back in a huff with her arms crossed.  She glared at her brother.

"This is Tommy Collins all over again."

Cas rolled his eyes.  "Tommy Collins was gay.  You had no shot with him."

"That doesn't mean _you_ had to date him."

"It was high school.  Get over it."

"I will if you get me someone else.  Someone just as hot."

"I'll try but I'm not even sure that is possible."

"I know, right?" Jess sighed wistfully.

Cas smiled, and then frowned.  He pulled his wallet out.  After checking the contents he looked over at Alfie.

"Hey, buddy, do you think you could spot me some cash?  I seem to have run out for some reason."

"Oh my God you blew your whole wad on that guy?" Jess gasped with mock surprise.

"Jess!" Cas said, blushing up to his ears.  That hadn't been an accidental double entendre.

"I've got you covered," Alfie said.  "Guess we better get in on Benny up there."

"I don't like beards," Jess complained.

"But you like accents."

"Is Cajun considered to be a sexy accent?" Cas asked.

"Yes," Jess confirmed.

"Sold!" the auctioneer shouted, ending the trio's indecision of whether or not to bid on the man in question.  "Well, you all have been wonderful tonight.  Have you had fun?"

The crowd shouted loudly that they had.

"Excellent.  We'd like to thank everyone for coming and making your contributions.  I know we've already made more than last year without even hearing the final tally.  Now, I'm going to ask Adam to come up here and take over auctioning duties as I think I might want to get in on this last one."

The audience chuckled, but the trio in the back were definitely not in on the joke.

"Woo, Ellen!" someone shouted and the crowd got noisy again.  The woman handed off the microphone to Adam and stood near one of the front tables.

"Ladies and gentleman, here is our last hunk of the night!" Adam announced with the appropriate amount of gravitas.

"Oh, no!" Jess said softly, yanking on Cas' arm.  "We have to get this one!"

"Okay, okay."

"Now I'm sure you've all realized that we've saved the best for last.  Come on out here, Mr. Fire Chief!"

The audience screamed as a man slid down the pole.  He faced the crowd with a scowl and crossed arms.  Cas raised his eyebrows.  The man was probably in his late forties or early fifties with a full beard and balding spot on the top of his head.

"Now what could be sweeter than a date with Bobby Singer?"

The man's expression was nothing but sour.

"Why a trip to the Coney Island boardwalk and some saltwater taffy.  We'll start the bidding at twent—ah let's not mess around, shall we?  Fifty dollars!"

The woman who had been the announcer raised her hand.  Cas turned to Jess with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry.  Maybe Dean has a brother," he offered as consolation.

"Actually, he does," Alfie said.  "Remember—”

Jess' hand shot up.  "One hundred!"

Cas and Alfie stared at her.  She looked at them and shrugged.  "What?  I'm not leaving here without a date."

They stifled their laughter and watched as the bidding went up in small increments to two hundred dollars, and then it was just Jess and the former announcer going back and forth.  The woman didn't look particularly amused and everyone in the room was looking back at them, half amused, half concerned.  Cas leaned over and whispered in Jess' ear.

"Jess, I think you're bidding against the guy's wife.  Maybe you should let her have him?"

Jess glared at him and then stuck her hand in the air.  "Five hundred!"

The room bubbled with whispering and murmuring.  The announcer, Ellen, looked stunned.  She glanced up at the man on the stage.  He shrugged a shoulder and the woman huffed slightly, putting her hands on her hips.  Then she waved a hand in Jess' direction.

"Going once," Adam said.  Everyone held their breath.  "Going twice."  The buzz in the room started again.  "Sold to the pretty blonde in the back!"  The crowd started clapping and laughing.  "Better luck next year, Ellen."  Everyone laughed more and Cas was glad everyone was being a good sport about it.  This appeared to be a pretty tightly knit community and fortunately they didn't seem to mind the outsiders causing a few ripples.  He supposed so long as they paid up who cared what they got to do for one night?

Jess turned to Alfie.  "Please tell me you have five hundred dollars in cash on you."

"Uh, I might."

Jess, Cas, and Alfie pooled their money as they were gently shuffled off to the side as the tablecloths were discarded and the tables folded up and put away.  Pop music remixed with a heavy beat started playing over the PA system and at least half the people in the room gathered in the center and began dancing.  Alfie peeled off from them as he spotted Sam in a group of people, and Cas followed Jess to the money collection table which had now turned into date pick up.  Jess forked over her cash and smiled broadly as her date peeled the sticker off his chest and awkwardly and carefully tried to stick it to her dress without touching her boob.  He finally settled for slapping it on her shoulder.  She smiled at him the way she smiled at their father.  Cas felt a little concerned for the fire chief.

"Hey."

If Cas had been a cat his back would have arched and his tail would have fluffed out.  He turned stiffly to look at Dean.  Seeing his easy smile made him relax a little.

"Hello, Dean."

"So, uh, what do I call you?"

"Cas—Cas."  Most people needed him to repeat his name to really hear it and the room was already incredibly loud.  Might as well take the shortcut to his nickname.

"Cas.  Okay.  So, uh, are you leaving or can you stick around?"

"I can stick.  Um, around.  Why?"

"Well, otherwise we'd have to set up a time for our date, but if you're staying then we can do that later."

"Oh, right."  Cas blushed again and had to look down.  It was kind of unreal that someone who looked like Dean was talking about going on a date with him.  Not that his exes were ugly, but Dean was preternaturally pretty.  It wasn't just that he had nice features and a great body—there was something about his beauty that to seemed to come from within.  Cas wasn't sure how he could possibly know that, but there was just something about this man that felt...right.

Dean shifted his weight and licked his lips.  "So, um, I'm not really a huge fan of this kind of music..." he trailed off, waiting for Cas to agree or disagree with him.

"Yeah, it's not really my thing either.  Also, not nearly drunk enough to even attempt dancing."

He laughed and Dean smiled.  Cas had an internal fist pump moment.  He'd made Dean smile.

"Actually, I've noticed there's not really any alcohol at all," Cas commented.

"Yeah, we can't have any in the fire station."

"At all?"

Dean shook his head.  "Even if we're off duty, there's always a chance we could get called to work if we're here and we can't go on a run with even a tiny bit of alcohol in our systems."

"Makes sense."

"So, um," Dean licked his lips.  Cas realized it was one of his ticks, the way other people cracked their knuckles or pulled on their earlobes.  "There's a diner not far from here that's definitely quieter.  The coffee's usually burnt but they make pie fresh everyday--always a different flavor.  You know, if you want to go hang out there.  We can talk.  About our date.  Or..."

"Yeah, sure.  Just let me tell my sister I'm leaving."

"The blonde's your sister?"

"Yeah."

Dean tried to turn a smile into a nonchalant expression.  "That's good to know."

Cas tilted his head.  "Is it?"

"Um.  Isn't it?"

Cas stared at Dean.  He stared back, and then closed his eyes and slightly shook his head in bemusement.  Cas turned to go find Jess.  He felt like he was missing something.  After putting up with obnoxious teasing from his sister about his plans for the rest of the night, she told him to go on and not worry about her.  She promised she'd leave only with Alfie and take a taxi back with him so she wouldn't be traveling alone.  After giving him a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the butt she sent him off with a thumbs up.

Cas found Dean standing just outside the fire station talking to the firefighter who had been auctioned second.  He caught the tail end of their conversation: Dean saying something about not being worried and the other replying for him to be careful.  He wondered what that was all about it.  It certainly couldn't be about him, could it?  Did he look dangerous?  Or like he'd even be capable of taking on a man built like Dean?

"Ah, well, if it isn't Dean Winchester's date," the man, Victor if Cas recalled correctly, said.

Cas glanced at the sticker on his chest and could not stop the blush from spreading over his cheeks.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Yeah...so what the hell, man?"

Cas tensed.

"You pay five hundred dollars for your friend to go on a date with that old curmudgeon of a fire chief and you couldn't go above one forty-five for me?"

Cas stuttered trying to come up with something to say, some explanation, but then both Dean and Victor laughed.  Victor slapped him on the back.

"I'm just messing with you, man.  Though seriously.  Next time, don't cheap out on me."

"I—”

Dean laughed and put a hand on Cas' shoulder, pulling him gently so he'd start walking.

"Don't listen to him, Cas.  He's just mad because we had a bet going on.  Whoever went for more money gets to foist off his chores on the other for the number of minutes that's the difference in price."

Cas made a face.  "I am so sorry--"

"I'm not," Dean said and pulled Cas farther away from the lights of the firehouse.  "You can start with the toilets tomorrow morning, Vic."

"There has got to be some sort of mercy rule in this," Victor yelled after them.

Dean just laughed and wrapped an arm around Cas' shoulders as he dragged him down the sidewalk.

"Man, you have made my night in so many ways."

Cas half-smiled as he watched Dean laugh.  He looked good when he laughed.

"I hope your friend won't be mad at you," Cas said, realizing he'd inflicted fourteen and a quarter hours worth of work on the man.

"Nah.  I'll let him out of it.  Eventually."

Dean looked at him and seemed to realize that he still had his arm slung around him and that they were pressed close together.  He let go and stepped slightly away as they continued to walk down the sidewalk.  Cas had no idea where they were or where they were going, but he followed Dean with little thought for either of those concerns.  They walked in a silence that was only slightly awkward, and after another block they came across a Russian establishment that was more deli than diner, but there were a couple of tables and chairs shoved into a corner.

"Hey, Kate," Dean flashed a flirtatious smile at the girl behind the counter.

"Dean.  How did the auction go?  I'm still heartbroken I had to work tonight."

"I missed you too, but hey, sometimes fate works in strange ways."

"What, like I'm going to meet some prince from a foreign land who gets lost and wanders into this dump when I'm on shift?"

"Or maybe fate was working for me tonight."

Kate's eyes slid over and caught on Castiel.  She raised her eyebrows and then looked back at Dean.

"Fuck you.  It's one thing to date girls prettier than me, but you may not date boys prettier than me."

Dean laughed.  "Aw, sweetheart, he's not prettier than you."  Dean caught Cas' eye and gave him a wink.

"I saw that," Kate grumbled.

"Can we get an extra large slice of your pie of the day, one coffee, and Cas you got a preference for a drink?"

"Oh, just water for me, please."

"Cheap date.  I like it.  One pie, one coffee, one water."

"I got it."

"Are you sure you don't want to write it down?"

"I will kick your ass through that window, Winchester.  Sit down."

Dean grinned and gave her another wink as he made a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth.  He turned to Cas and nodded his head toward the tables in the back.  They had just gotten settled in their seats when Kate was already there, dropping off what must have been a quarter of a pie and their drink orders.

"No googly eyes until you're out of my eye line, alright?"

Dean waved her off with a dismissive hand and she walked away muttering something about how bad tippers shouldn't have so much attitude.  Dean picked up one of the forks and handed it to Cas.

"You're in luck.  Looks like it's strawberry-rhubarb.  You will be ruined for all other desserts forever.  Except for the apple one they make here.  And the cherry.  And of course the pecan and sweet potato in the fall.  Also, never been a big fan of lemon meringue or key lime--but they can make believers out of anybody for anything."

"And I guess the snozberry is even better than all of them," Cas said with a laugh.

Dean's brow creased as he took a bite of the pie.  "What the hell's a snozberry?"

"Oh.  I--"  Cas stopped trying to talk and scooped up a forkful of pie and shoved it in his mouth to shut himself up.  Dean watched him with an expectant half smile on his face.  He raised his eyebrows as Cas chewed.

"Hanh, hanh?  Great, isn't it?"

Cas bobbed his head.  "Yeah, it's okay."

Dean looked like he'd been slapped in the face.  " _Okay_?"

"No, I mean, it's good," Cas backpedaled.  "Really good.  I just don't really like pie all that much."

Dean looked even more scandalized.

"Well, I mean, but this pie is really good.  Because I don't usually like pie.  But this pie, makes me like pie.  At least, it makes me want more of this pie."  He scooped up another bite and shoveled it into his mouth enthusiastically.  "I's gud."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he stared him down and took another bite.  Cas knew he needed to change the subject fast.

"So, why did you become a firefighter?"

Dean shrugged.  "You know.  Usual reasons."

Cas smiled.  "Mr. March from the 1996 Men of the FDNY charity calendar?"

Dean laughed around his next bite.

"Or is it some deeply rooted psychological issue from your childhood that drives you to put out those flames?"

Cas laughed, but Dean didn't.  He looked like he was thinking about something and Cas took another bite, not sure how to interpret the look on Dean's face.  He started to swallow when Dean said, "My mother died in a fire."

Cas choked.

He coughed and hacked and Dean partially stood up, but Cas put out a hand.  Kate called out to ask if he was okay.  Cas wheezed out a yes and then gulped down some of his water.  He coughed some more, though not as violently as before.  Then he cleared his throat and looked up at Dean.  He could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't been messing with him.  Cas put a hand over half his face.

"Oh my God.  Dean.  I am so sorry."

"It's okay.  It happened a long time ago.  I'm over it."

Cas peeked at him around his fingers.  Dean looked calm, his face neutral, but the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth told a different story.  Dean Winchester was not over his mother's death.  Cas felt like a piece of shit.  He sat back in his chair.

"Well."  He looked down at the half eaten pie.  Dean must have eaten three bites to every one of his.  "The pie really was great.  Um.  But maybe--"

"You're bailing?"

Cas looked up and met his eyes.

"You didn't strike me as a coward, Cas."

"I'm--I'm not a coward.  I'm mortified.  There's a difference."

"Don't be.  I'm not upset about anything you said.  I just normally don't delve into the whole mother thing until, you know, never."

"Oh."

"You live in Brooklyn, Cas?"

"Uh, no.  On Manhattan."

"Oh, like some way overpriced studio where you can fry an egg while you're taking a shower?"

Cas smiled.  "Not exactly."

Dean rolled his fork in the air.  "Where?" he asked around another bite of pie.

"I live near 79th and Madison."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.  "No shit.  Guess I should have figured if you have no problem dropping a G on some random dude for a date at a charity auction."

"It's not really—I mean.  Well, yeah."

"What do you do?"

"Lawyer."

"Ah.  Heh.  You know, my little brother's a lawyer.  He definitely doesn't make enough to live on the Upper East Side.  He must be practicing the wrong kind of law."

"Oh.  Your brother is Sam.  I met him tonight.  He's friends with my friend Alfie.  That's how we knew about the event."

"Yeah, that's him.  The Do-Gooder Sasquatch."

Cas smiled at the clear affection is Dean's surly tone.

"Well, he does family law,” Cas said reflectively.  “He might not make a lot of money, but he's definitely richer in his soul than lawyers who make a lot of money."

"Nah, that's crap.  Just ‘cause you do something that makes a lot of money doesn't mean you're automatically a bad person.  What kind of lawyer are you?"

"Defense attorney."

"Hmm.  I guess not the kind that take on people falsely accused who can't afford a lawyer?"

Cas gave a slight shake of his head.  "More of the most likely guilty but they can afford to pay to have someone find them a way out of it variety."

"Well, stop trying to sell yourself so hard, Cas.  How can I possibly resist that ringing endorsement?"

Cas laughed involuntarily.  He looked up at Dean and for once didn't feel the waves of judgment he usually felt rolling off from other people when he told them what he did.  Of course, he'd never actually told anyone what he did for a living in such unflattering terms before.

"Well, I wanted you to at least have a fighting chance at resisting me," Cas said, surprised by his own boldness.

Dean smiled and let his eyes flick over him again.  "I appreciate it.  But I'm not sure it's working."

Cas inhaled slowly and deeply as he maintained eye contact with Dean.  It suddenly felt warm in the tiny deli.  Dean looked away first and called out to Kate.

"Could I get another cup of joe over here?  Uh, please?"

"Sure."

"Cas you want anything?"

"More water would be good," he said as he tried to discreetly pluck at the collar of his shirt to try to get some cool air on his heated chest.

Dean smirked like he knew exactly how Cas was feeling.  And maybe he did.  To give himself something to do other than stare stupidly at Dean Winchester, Cas looked at his watch.  It was almost ten.

"You sure you need another cup of coffee this late?"

"I'm on night shifts for the next couple of weeks.  I gotta stay up anyway."

"I see.  Is it hard?"

"Is what hard?"

"Having your schedule be so inconsistent."

"Nah.  I kinda like it actually.  Keeps things from getting stale.  My dad was a Marine, so me and Sammy moved around a lot when were kids.  Sometimes it's hard to just stay in the same place, never going anywhere or seeing anything.  Thanks, Kate."

Cas took a sip of his water, barely even noticing the waitress as he kept his focus on Dean.

"Every now and then I just get the need to get up and go.  I've been to all forty-eight continental states and so many cheesy tourist traps I could probably write a tour book on the subject."

Cas smiled.

"You ever get that feeling, Cas?  Like you need to just--leave where you are and be--somewhere else?"

Cas let his eyes roam over Dean's face.  He was being open and honest, and it was fascinating meeting somebody like him, but he just didn't get it.

"No," Cas said honestly.  "I'm a total homebody."

Dean let out a small laugh and rubbed his hand underneath one eye.  "Well.  Are we really connecting here or what?"

Cas smiled.  "Well, it's a good thing for me.  You can tell me about all your travels and I can live vicariously through you."

"And what would I get in return?"

"A rapt audience."

Dean grinned.  "You know, that would actually be awesome.  When I tell someone about the world's second biggest ball of twine, I don't want somebody nodding absently and checking their phone."

"Where is the world's second largest ball of twine?"

"Cawker City, Kansas."

Cas laughed softly, and then pulled his bottom lip through his teeth.  He noticed Dean noticing.  Then Dean sat up and fiddled with his napkin.  He cleared his throat.

"So, uh.  You've never been anywhere then?  That rich I figure you gotta at least be going on European vacations or something."

"Mm.  I've been to London and Rome.  Zurich and Munich.  Venice, Florence, Athens, Istanbul--"

"Jesus.  I thought you said you were a homebody."

"I am.  I don't get that feeling, or itch, to travel.  But I do travel."

"I feel like being rich is wasted on you."

"Not at all.  I totally wasted a hundred and twenty five dollars on these damn jeans."

"You know, ordinarily I would agree that dropping that much cash on a single article of clothing is a pretty douchey waste of money, but from my perspective those jeans are worth every penny."

Cas couldn't repress his smile, but looked down at the table and rubbed the back of his neck.  He was feeling warmer than ever and quickly drained his second glass of water.

"Okay.  How about this--the deal breaker.  What do you think of Led Zeppelin?"

Cas looked up and strummed his fingers on the table, contemplating his answer.  Dean had informed him this was the deal breaker.  Did he admit that he really didn't like them all that much and effectively squash the tenuous attraction between them, or did he lie to prolong their evening in order to, what?  Cas didn't do one night stands, so he didn't know why trying to stay on Dean's good side for one night would be his priority.

"I think they're a pretty good band."

Dean's shoulders relaxed a little, and he smiled.

"For plagiarists."

"You little--!"  Dean wadded up his napkin and hurled it at Cas.

He laughed and easily blocked the projectile with his palm.

"They are not plagiarists.  Jimmy Page is a genius."

"Mm-hmm."  Cas gave him a shit-eating grin and he was pretty certain Dean was past plotting his murder and was onto where to hide the body.  Cas put his napkin on the table and stood up.  Dean practically sprang out of his chair.

"You're not leaving over Zeppelin, are you?"

"What?  No."  Cas chuckled.  "I have to use the bathroom."

"Oh, dude," Dean said and stepped close, putting a hand on Cas' arm.  His heart did a flip-flop and he barely understood him when Dean continued, "The food is awesome, but trust me, you do not want to use the bathrooms here."

"Hmm?"  Dean removed his hand and Cas could think again, even though he could still feel the warm patch on his skin where Dean's hand had lain.  "Oh, well, I guess there's probably a McDonald's around here or something.  I can order a soda and--"

"No, just come to my place.  I only live a couple blocks away.  We can walk there."

Cas contemplated that offer.  He supposed there could be some sort of implied acceptance of a sexual encounter, like getting asked up for a cup of coffee, but then again he could just be offering the use of his facilities.  And Cas really needed to go.

"Yeah, okay."

Dean pulled out his wallet and dug out a twenty dollar bill.  He looked up at Cas.

"Hey, shouldn't money bags be paying?"

Cas ducked his head and gave him a sheepish look.  "I kind of used all my cash for the auction tonight."

Dean chuckled.  "Alright, that's acceptable I guess.  Come on."

Dean handed the twenty to Kate and told her goodnight.  She sing-songed for them to have a good night as well and Cas blushed.  He had no plans to have sex tonight, but it was still embarrassing to think about a complete stranger thinking about him having sex.  Outside the air was even more stifling as the oppressive front of the storm closed steadily in on them.

"Man, it's hot out here," Dean said.  "And humid."

"It's the storm," Cas said unnecessarily.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, not letting on that he must have thought Cas had the social graces of a ten year old raised by monkeys.  "I love storms.  I love the buildup.  How everything gets charged and tense and hot and sticky and gets into your skin and makes you feel like you're vibrating—and then boom!  It all explodes out of—”

Cas walked into a sandwich board sign advertising the specials inside the bar they were passing.  He stumbled headlong toward the ground, but Dean reached out and grabbed him, saving him from an embarrassing and painful encounter with the pavement.  When he got his feet under him again he was standing in front of Dean and the man was gripping his biceps to keep him steady.  As soon as he saw Cas was okay, Dean smiled.

"I take it you like storms too, huh?"

"Um."  Cas had trouble swallowing.  His mouth was so dry.  "Is it much farther?"

Dean released him and stepped back, but he didn't look insulted that Cas had avoided the question.  "No.  It's right there on the corner."

Cas nodded and walked with Dean across the street and wondered if he was subletting a room in one of the apartment buildings they were walking towards.  No offense intended to Dean, but there was no way a firefighter's salary was paying for one of the relatively large apartments in a well maintained building in a highly desirous neighborhood in Brooklyn.  Dean led them though the main entrance and took the stairs up to the second floor.  He walked to an apartment at the end of the hall and unlocked three different locks before the door opened.  He flicked on the hall light and walked in like he owned the place.   He pointed toward the back of the apartment.

"Bathroom's back there."

"Thanks."

Cas hurried through, only taking minimal note of the simple furniture and decorations.  The bathroom interior was really old fashioned and probably hadn't been updated since it originally went up in the 40's or 50's.  Despite everything being old, it was clean.  As Cas relieved himself, he glanced around noticing that everything was utilitarian and not at all decorative.  He figured that meant Dean must not have a girlfriend or an aesthetically inclined boyfriend.  Until he saw two toothbrushes in the holder on the sink.  Then he wondered if Dean did have a girlfriend or boyfriend and he'd only done the auction for the sake of the fundraiser.  He'd been flirting with him, but maybe he really was only offering him the use of his toilet.

Cas took his time washing his hands, and then splashed a little cool water on his face.  He needed to calm down a little bit.  It had been a while since the last time he'd been physically intimate with somebody, but he wasn't that desperate.  He cast one more displeased look at the second toothbrush and put his hand on the knob.  Why was he even upset?  He didn't do one nightstands.  So, who cared if—

Cas started as he exited the bathroom and found Dean waiting for him.  Cas stared at Dean, wondering what the man had in mind.  Then he waved Cas impatiently out of the way, and he realized he was blocking Dean's path.  He moved to the side and Dean stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Exhaling the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Cas walked back toward the living room.  He glanced at the window a/c unit doing its best to cool down the apartment, but the air was almost as warm and sultry as it had been outside.  He plucked at his shirt to try to get some of the sweat on his chest to evaporate.  He paused to look at a picture on the end table next to the couch.  He picked it up to examine what was clearly a very young Dean and a dark headed kid standing in front of an ugly black car.  He figured the kid had to be Sam, and it was hard to imagine the insanely tall man ever being that small.  But what was even harder to imagine was this soft, pretty faced kid turning into the beautiful, rugged man Dean was today.  Apparently the Winchesters had some hearty genes that could not be beaten down by puberty.  He set the picture back down.

"Hey, Cas."

Cas turned in surprise; he hadn't heard Dean come out of the bathroom.  They stood about a foot and a half apart and Cas wondered why that a/c unit was doing jack all to get the temperature down.  He felt like he was standing in a sauna.  Though perhaps not all the heat was coming from the atmosphere.  Castiel inhaled deeply and Dean mirrored him.  The air seemed to tremble around them.  Cas needed to do something to take his mind off it.  He looked down at the picture.

"Hey.  Where was—mmfph!"

  Cas felt like his whole body had caught fire as Dean put an arm around his waist and one around his shoulders and crushed their lips together in a kiss that was driven just as much by the wild tension of the approaching storm as it was by their lusty desire for each other.  Cas whimpered, actually fucking whimpered as Dean pushed against him and drove him backwards.  And God, could Dean kiss.  Like _really_ kiss.  He was lost in the sensation of being controlled by incredibly soft lips and a deceptively gentle tongue that teased his lips and the tip of his tongue, and he was ready to submit to whatever Dean had in mind for them.

Then they came to a stop as they bumped into something solid.  Dean pulled away from the kiss to get his bearings, and Cas looked around as well.  He realized they were against the doorjamb leading into a bedroom.  As soon as he saw the unmade bed he became more aware of his surroundings, including the hard line of Dean's cock against his thigh.  He pushed gently back on Dean's shoulders, and the man let himself be pushed away.  Cas licked his lips and took in another deep breath.

"Um.  I'm, I—”

Dean put his hands up in a kind of surrender.  "No, hey man, it's cool.  I understand.  Or, I guess I misunderstood.  But, we're on the same page now."

Cas shook his head.  "No, I mean.  Yes.  I mean.  It's not that I don't want to per se--"  Cas let his eyes sweep over Dean's body.  Why was he stopping him?  "I just.  I don't—”

Dean smirked, but it was gentler than it could have been.  "You're not that kind of boy?"

Cas flushed.  "Something like that."

Dean nodded and stepped back to give them some more space.  Without Dean standing so close, the stifling air suddenly felt cool.

"I should probably go," Cas said but not daring to try to squeeze past Dean in the narrow hallway.

Dean nodded and looked a little disappointed, but not with Cas, just kind of bummed out that they weren't going to see exactly how explosive of a reaction the chemistry between them could make.  Cas completely understood the feeling.  Dean turned and led them back toward the living room and the kitchen.

"Hey, you don't have to leave, you know," Dean said over his shoulder.  "It's Saturday night and it's not that late."

"I know, but it's probably better if I—”

"You won't even stay for a bit of Johnnie Walker?"

Cas hesitated at the door.  He turned back.  "What label?"

"Blue."

Cas thought about it for only a moment.  "Yeah, sure.  I take it neat."

"Hey, hey, you don't have to be all tough on my account."

"Just pour the whiskey," Cas groused with narrowed eyes.

Dean chuckled and disappeared into the kitchen.  Cas took it upon himself to flick on a lamp as he moved to sit in a comfortable looking recliner chair that could definitely only accommodate one person.  He looked around the space and saw a modestly sized flat screen TV and well worn furniture.  If he had to guess all of Dean's money was sunk in the elaborate sound system hooked up to an old turntable.  Maybe he had underestimated how profound Dean's love of Led Zeppelin was.

Cas shivered as he felt something cool touch the side of his neck.  He looked up and saw Dean smiling as he held out a glass with about two fingers of amber liquid inside.  There was no ice, but he was so warm the glass had felt almost cold by comparison.  Dean had a single ice cube in his drink.  He sat down heavily on his couch and leaned back in what looked like a much practiced and very comfortable position.

"I agree with you, JW shouldn't be messed with, but when it's sweatier than Satan's taint, I can't drink anything straight."

Cas laugh-cringed at that imagery and took a sip of the smooth liquor.  He rolled it around his tongue and enjoyed the pleasant warmth as it slid down his throat.

"This is good stuff."

"Yes, it is."

"So, uh, if you don't mind me asking—how exactly do you afford a place like this and such nice whisky on a firefighter's salary?"

"Well, the whisky was a gift."

"Ah."

"And the apartment is an inheritance.  My grandmother owned the place and got it locked in with rent control at a pretty awesome price.  The landlord is cool and let me add my name to the lease before she passed, so I get to keep it for ridiculously cheap.  I could make a fortune subletting it to some poor hipster shmuck, but it's convenient to work."

Cas smiled.  "That's as good a reason as any."  He took another sip of the scotch and felt himself relax.  "So, does Sam have the travel bug in him too?"

"No, not really.  Sammy and me—we're not really all that similar.  So, if you're going to be a dweeb and not like Led Zeppelin, what kind of music _do_ you like?"

Castiel recognized the change in topic and went with it.  They talked through the last sips of their drinks, and for a good while past that.  Dean always kept the topics of conversation away from anything serious.  Clearly he wasn't looking for any kind of deep connection.  And Cas didn't do casual sex.  So, it really was kind of strange that they had stayed in each other's company as long as they had.  Cas realized that was an odd and belated thought to have while he was on his knees with his face buried in Dean's lap, sucking enthusiastically on his cock.

He only vaguely remembered standing up and mumbling something about getting them refills, but when their hands had touched over Dean’s glass something had snapped in Cas.  Maybe it was seeing Dean looking at him with undisguised lust.  Maybe it was the way he didn’t even try to hide the impressive bulge in his lap.  Whatever it was that had thrown the last fuck Cas had to give out the window didn’t matter because Dean was running his hands affectionately through his hair and whispering such sweet and filthy encouragement to him.

Nothing did matter but this.  He loved this.  The weight on his tongue, the heat spreading down his throat, the strong, salty flavor on his tongue, the musky scent of a man filling his senses.  It had been way too damn long since he'd had a big fat cock in his mouth, being shoved down his throat.  It was the best when Dean pushed on the back of his head just a little too roughly and his cockhead hit the back of his throat.  He let out a small sound and Dean would back off, but then lose himself again and shove himself nice and deep.  Then Dean pulled on his hair and stuttered out a breathy warning.  Cas wanted to swallow, wanted to taste him, but it had been a while since he'd done this and he didn't want to embarrass himself by choking.  Plus Dean was a virtual stranger and they weren't using a condom.

Cas pulled off and jacked Dean quick and hard.  It only took a dozen strokes or so and Dean bit off a shout and came in thick, white ropes all over Cas' face.  He hummed as he felt Dean's spend fall warm and slick over his cheeks and lips.  He gave in and leaned forward to clean off the head of Dean's dick—licking it shiny and pulling another blurt of semen from his twitching cock and a surprised moan from his lips.  Cas sighed as he licked his lips and swallowed.  He tells people that he's bisexual, and he kinda is, but he really, _really_ loves men.  He realized he was kind of nuzzling Dean's softening member and sat back in a dizzying burst of embarrassment.

“Fuck, Cas, that was—”

Dean cut off as Cas scampered to his feet and ran down the hall to the bathroom.  He quickly washed off his face and attempted to blot out the stain on his collar.  He rinsed his mouth out and then looked at himself in the mirror.  What the hell was he doing?  He needed to go home before he did something really stupid.  Well, something even stupider.

He opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out to find Dean waiting for him again.  He sucked in a sharp breath as Dean stepped into his space and cupped his erection.  Dean's lips brushed against his with every word as he said softly, "I'm more than happy to return the favor, Cas."

Cas closed his eyes and licked his lips.  Bad decision.  His tongue brushed Dean's lips and the man took that as agreement.  Dean kissed him hungrily and he tasted like whisky and strawberries and a hint of coffee and Cas put his hands to Dean's face to hold him close.  He'd never wanted somebody like this before.  He'd never felt an insane desire to claim every part of a person for himself.  He barely knew him, he didn't really even know if he was a good person—but Castiel did know that he wanted him.

Dean pushed him up against the wall and shoved a thigh between his legs.  He should stop this.  He shouldn't be doing this.  The whole building shook and the windows rattled in the panes as a bright burst of lightning was quickly followed by a deafening crash of thunder.  Cas threw his head back and cried out as he heard the steady drum of rain on the glass and Dean's leg rubbed between his thighs.  He grasped Dean's shoulders and thrust back against him, humping his thigh desperately.

"Yeah, baby, come on," Dean growled in his ear and they grinded against each other even harder.

Lightning flashed again and thunder pealed through the sky and vibrated through their bones.  Cas dug his nails into Dean's flesh through his thin T-shirt.  He let out embarrassing moaning whimpers with each thrust of his hips.  And then he was there, standing on that shining precipice, and with a crash of lightning and thunder he came blindingly hard, grunting and pulling at Dean's clothes and body.

"Oh, fuck yes.  You're beautiful, Cas."

Cas tried to shut out the words and let his head fall back against the wall.  His hips still shifted minutely against Dean's who was swiveling his in a gentle answer.  Cas came down nice and easy, but he could already feel the regret setting in too.  Dean tried to kiss him, but Cas turned his head away.  Stung, Dean pulled back and released him.  Cas stayed against the wall, still needing its support.  He wouldn't look Dean in the eye.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry?" Dean asked, sounding surprised.  Then he repeated the word with scoffing derision.  "What exactly are you sorry for?"

"For my behavior."

Dean visibly calmed a little bit.  "Which part?  The blowjob, the dry humping, or the rejection?"

"All of it I guess.  I don't know what came over me.  I'm sorry if I've—I have to go home."

Thunder rumbled again, but sounded a little farther away.

"You can at least wait out the storm."

Cas finally turned his head to look at Dean.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll end up in your bed."

"And is that really such a terrible thing?"

Cas tilted his head to the side and against his will felt a smile forming.

"I don't know you, Dean.  And you don't know me.  Are you really ready to make a place for me in your life?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."  Dean put his hands up.  "I thought we were talking about a place in my bed."

Cas smiled wryly.  "And that is why I need to go home.  I don't do casual.  I _can't_ do it.  I'm going to want to know everything about you.  You'll hate me by the end of the week."

"Maybe.  But if you want to leave _tonight_ , that's on you, pal."

Cas nodded.  "It is.  Thank you.  For the pie.  And for understanding—or at least allowing me to wallow in my own neurosis."

Dean managed half a smile at that.  "Well, do you need me to call a car service or something?"

"That's okay.  I have one that will come get me, if you can just give me the nearest cross streets."

"Yeah, sure."

Cas made the call with the information from Dean and knew if he went outside now he'd probably be standing out in the rain for at least twenty minutes, but he remembered there was an awning at the entrance.  He'd be fine.  Certainly better off than staying inside the apartment with Dean Winchester and any number of flat surfaces.  Or not flat surfaces that one could be bent over.

Dean stood by the door so Cas would have no choice but to pass by him on the way out.  Not that he was so rude that he wouldn't have said something before he left.  He hitched a leg up awkwardly as he made his way to the door.  Dried come in his underwear was not a particularly pleasant feeling.  Dean leaned on the wall and put his hand on the doorknob.  He turned it, but didn't open the door.  Cas met his eyes.

"So, I know going to a Yankees game in the cheap seats isn't your idea of a fancy date, but you did win it.  It's for a weekday, if you can get out of work."

Cas let his eyes study Dean's face for a moment, trying to memorize the lines and angles and soft pink color of his lips and the mesmerizing green of his eyes.  Dean Winchester was someone worth remembering.

"I, uh, I tend to be pretty busy on weekdays.  It's hard for me—”

"I get it," Dean said.  He cocked his head and looked Cas over.  "There's nothing wrong about what happened here tonight."

"It's not that I think it's wrong, Dean.  It's that it's not enough."

Dean smirked.  "Not enough?  Seven and a half inches isn't enough for you?  Jesus."

Cas let out a surprised burst of laughter and shoved Dean gently on the shoulder.

"Fuck you."

"Hey I offered, man, you're the one leaving."

"Yes, foolishly, I know."  Cas smiled despite himself.  "Goodbye, Debonair Dean."

Dean made a face at the description he'd been given for the auction.

"I'd requested Dean the Divine."

Cas hummed and gave Dean a teasing look.  "I love a guy with humility."

Dean bit his lower lip gently and the two of them looked at each other like the oasis in an endless desert.

"I really have to go now," Cas forced himself to say.

Dean nodded and opened the door for him.  Just before he passed through, Dean said his name softly.  Cas turned to look at him and parted his lips when he saw Dean leaning in.  The kiss was easy, pleasant, almost friendly.  Then Cas pulled away and walked out the door without looking back.  He didn't need any more regrets this night.


	3. The Party

Castiel looked at the pen in his hands and rubbed his thumb over and over the gold embossed lettering that said, "The Finnerman Firm."  He allowed Mr. Birch to argue, to shout, to vent his frustration.  To cry.  He could possibly lose another son because of a corrupt legal system.  He'd been yelling for at least fifteen minutes.  Aaron sat quietly, sullenly at the table.  The cuffs on his thin wrists a mockery of his total helplessness.  They hadn't been able to afford bail and Aaron had been in a juvenile detention center for two months.  The first two times Cas had seen the bruises and cuts on Aaron's body he had begged the boy to tell him who had done it so he could get him some kind of protection.  But he'd never said a word and Cas just had to try to ignore the way the kid had limped into the room this morning.

When Mr. Birch had to pause to catch his breath, Castiel took the opportunity to try to break through his shroud of grief and be heard.

"Mr. Birch, I understand your frustration.  No, believe me--I really do.  I deal with the system day in and day out and I know how unfair it can be.  I won't say that you're wrong for believing the police planted that gun on your oldest son because--because I know some cops that might just do something like that.

"I'm so sorry you lost your son.  And that you have received no justice for it.  But that doesn't change the fact that Aaron is guilty.  He was in possession of an illegal substance and he was selling it.  No matter how wrongly you've been treated by the law in the past, it doesn't mean you can start to ignore it.  But, I think we can work something out.  Aaron's never been in trouble before.  He's a straight A student.  We can work with that if we make a plea deal."

"What good will that do?  It'll still be on his record.  A black kid with a criminal record?  He's not going to get into college."

"But he's being charged as a minor.  The records will be sealed when he's eighteen.  It won't affect his chances to get into college if he defers applying for a year."

"Like we can afford to pay for college anyway," Aaron muttered.

"There are ways to pay for school," Cas said, turning his attention to Aaron briefly.  "Student loans are real and they work.  Plus, The Finnerman Firm has a scholarship fund that we award to exceptional clients.  Keep your nose clean for another four years and I'll put in a good word for you."

Aaron gave him a skeptical look.

"But before that, we have to deal with this.  And I think it might actually be possible to get out of this without giving you a criminal record at all."

"How?" Mr. Birch asked, finally taking a seat at the table.

"I have a deal I can make with the prosecutor.  I have something she wants very badly, and dropping the charges against a first time offender minor will be a small price to pay."

Mr. Birch and Aaron exchanged looks.

"Why would you do this for us?" Mr. Birch asked.

"Because these charges are bullshit.  And I'm tired of seeing kids like Aaron getting punished unfairly when their white counterparts get off scot free."

Both of them raised their eyebrows.  Mr. Birch laced his fingers together.

"If you attempt to make this deal, and it doesn't go through, will it make things worse for Aaron?"

"No.  The offer will be made off the books.  If it doesn't work we'll be no worse off than we are now.  At that point I would recommend Aaron plead no contest and I'm fairly certain I can get him a sentence of probation and no jail time.  But, I need your permission to attempt to make the deal."

Mr. Birch nodded.  "If you think you can save my boy, please do whatever you can."

Castiel nodded.  "You two can wait here while I talk to the prosecutor.  They may send in an officer or turn on recording devices, so keep your conversation to the weather and baseball, okay?"

They nodded in understanding.

"I'll be back soon.  Though hopefully not too soon.  Keep your fingers crossed ADA Masters is in a good mood."

Aaron actually crossed his fingers and Cas smiled at him.  He patted his shoulder as he passed him on his way out of the room.  As soon as he opened the door to the interrogation room, a guard for the detention center entered the room and stood in the corner with his arms crossed.  Castiel rolled his eyes.  He really didn't like the McLeod Youth Detention Center.  They ran the place like a military institution guarding a bunch of court-martialed traitors.  The hallways were narrow and boxy with nauseatingly beige tiles made even uglier by the flickering of fluorescent lights.  After a couple of twists and turns, he came across the section that was carpeted and had better lighting.  The executives who ran the facility worked here and ADA Margret Masters had taken over the assistant director's office for the afternoon.  Cas knocked on the door and a voice called out for him to enter.

Cas opened the door and stepped inside, hanging onto the doorknob as he saw the ADA sitting at a desk, wearing a black skirt suit that showed off her curves while still giving her a strong air of authority and power.  Her hair was curled in soft glossy brown waves and she wore strikingly red lipstick.  She looked good today and Cas remembered having such a huge crush on her in law school.  There had always been a fun and sexually charged push and pull between them, but nothing had ever come of it.  Possibly because at every turn in life they went in different directions.  They just weren't made for each other.  Why was he always attracted to people who were so wrong for him?  Why did he ignore that feeling and pursue those relationships anyway?  Maybe because he had no feeling of "right" to compare it to.

_Dean felt right,_ his traitorous subconscious whispered to him.  Castiel shoved the memories of that night back down to where it belonged—near his spank bank.  He knew he should just forget the guy entirely, and certainly not be creepy and use his memories of that night to get his rocks off, but Cas had no control when it came to Dean.  And nothing felt so good as remembering Dean's taste and scent and gruff voice growling his pleasure as he touched himself under the hot spray of his overly fancy showerhead.  Well, actually being there with Dean had felt better, but that wasn't an option.  Except for the fact that it was.  It hadn't been some random hook up in a bar.  He knew where Dean worked.  He could ask Alfie to ask Sam for Dean's contact information.  But how could he call him now after making an ass of himself that night?  He couldn't even imagine what Dean must think of him.  Thinking back to their encounter he realized he must have come off as psychotic.

"Castiel."

Meg's smoky voice pulled him from his thoughts.  He looked up and watched her stand and walk around the desk.  The skirt was actually quite short for professional standards, but that and the high heels made her legs look longer and therefore she appeared taller than she really was.  People tended to only underestimate Meg once because of her petite body and pretty face.  She had sharp teeth and used them viciously.  It was why she was such an amazing prosecutor.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked as she leaned against the desk, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.

Cas shut the door behind him as he entered the room.  Meg tilted her head slightly.

"Well.  Must be serious if we need privacy."

"Not serious.  Just a private negotiation."

"Private, huh?  That could be either good or bad.  Either way make it short.  I don't want to stay in this hell hole any longer than I have to."

"Don't worry, I'll be fast.  I know how busy and important you are."

"Keep sweet talking me, angel, and you know you'll get whatever you want."

Cas huffed a laugh and found himself regretting yet again that he'd told Meg his namesake was an angel.

"I want you to drop the charges against Aaron Birch."

"No."  Meg cocked her head.  "Who's Aaron Birch?"

"He's the fourteen year old picked up for selling weed a couple months back."

"Why should I drop the charges against him?"

"Why _should_ you?  Because he's a good kid.  Because he made a mistake because he's in a bad place after losing his brother.  Because he's smart and has a future ahead of him that will be ruined if the system gets a hold of him.  Because it was frickin' weed—which is legal in some places now and he doesn't deserve to have the book thrown at him because he's poor and comes from a bad neighborhood when rich little snots pass out drugs in clubs every night that kill kids with overdoses and low purity and they get to keep living their wasteful lives."

Meg looked at him blandly.  "Allow me to rephrase that.  Why _would_ I drop the charges?"

"Because I can do something for you."

There went that perfectly shaped eyebrow again.

"Josie Sands."

She straightened.  "I'm listening."

"I can help your office finally have a shot at putting her behind bars."

"How?"

"Well, I can't give you any information of course, but I can get my firm to refuse to represent her.  We're actually having a vote on it next week.  I mean, we represent some pretty shady clients, but even we are hesitant to represent Abaddon the Destroyer.  Maybe if she'd picked a stage name that was a little less controversial..."

"Oh, come on, Cas.  Why do you think that's worth anything?"

"Because if we don't represent her you'll at least have a chance of getting a conviction.  With us, you know she'll walk."

Meg pursed her lips.  Perhaps pissing her off wasn't the best way to ask for a favor.

"It sounds like you're offering me something you're going to do anyway."

"I'm the swing vote, Meg.  Let Aaron Birch off, and I'll step out of your way with Sands."

Meg studied him for several long moments.  Cas felt like she was simultaneous stripping off his clothes and his skin with her eyes.  It was a disconcerting feeling.

"Okay."

Cas physically started with the surprise.  "Okay?  Okay!  Great.  I'll get--"

"Hang on."

Cas deflated.  He should have known nothing with Meg could ever be that simple.

"It seems to me like you're offering an uneven professional trade because you're expecting the personal favor of me accepting it."

Cas opened his mouth, and then closed it.

"So, that makes a trade of professional favors, but we're uneven on the personal ones.  Unless you do a personal favor for me."

Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  "What do you want?"

"I have a party I have to go to this weekend.  It's technically a work function, but it's more social than business.  We're celebrating the dissolution of the Black Eyed Mafia and the conviction of their top tiered leadership."

"I heard about that."  Cas smirked.  "They opted not to use The Finnerman Firm to mount their defense."

"An unwise decision on their part," Meg replied, "but very good for us."

"Now you see how good a deal it is that I'm offering to not represent Josie Sands for one little boy getting a pass for making a bad decision."

"Hm.  I still want you to be my date to the party."

Cas let out a short breath.  "Your date?  Meg, come on, we tried this once.  You and I--do not work."

"Oh I'm not asking you to date me.  I’m asking you to _be_ my date.  Arm candy.  Make me look good.  My ex will be there.  And so will her ex.  I kind of want her to suffer as much as possible."

"Well, when you have a goal you see it through, don't you."

"You know me so well."

"Yeah, unfortunately I do.  Alright.  When is it?"

"Saturday night.  Pick me up at eight."

"Okay.  But only if Aaron is out today."

"Cas," Meg whined.  "It's already after four o'clock.  No one wants to do work this close to quitting time."

Cas crossed his arms and gave her a nonnegotiable look.  She sighed and put her hands in the air.  Then she walked around the desk and picked up her cell phone.  After fifteen minutes and a few conversations that Cas was very glad he wasn't on the receiving end of, a fax came through on the outdated machine in the assistant director's office.  Meg signed the order officially dropping all charges against Aaron Birch and handed it to Cas.

"Thank you, Meg."

"Wear something blue," she said.  "It brings out your eyes."

Cas gave her a wry look and then took his leave.  When he entered the holding room the Birches were in, they both looked up at him with cautious optimism.  Cas handed the orders to the guard on duty.

"I'll take them up front for out processing," Cas said.

The guard frowned, but walked over and released Aaron from the handcuffs.

"You did it!" Mr. Birch said, voice thick with tears.  "Thank you, thank you.  I don't know how I can ever repay you for this."

"You can't," Cas said.  He put his hands on the table and looked Aaron straight in the eyes.  "But you can.  There's nothing fair about what happened to your brother, and I understand your distrust of the system and your desire to go against it.  But you take this as the warning that it is.  If you're going to fight for your brother, you've got to do it the right way, okay?  Don't try to subvert the system, try to fix it.  Alright?  Be better than they are.  And Aaron, if you get busted for selling drugs again, not only am I not going to represent you, but I'm going to get special permission to be the one to prosecute you.  Are we clear?"

Aaron nodded, eyes wide.  Castiel stood up straight.

"There's a good boy.  Let's go get you released, alright?"

~~~

"I can't believe you agreed to go on a date with Meg Masters," Jess said as she pulled a green button down and a black polo shirt out of his closet.

"I got a break for a good kid.  It's more than a fair trade.  Meg said to wear something blue."

Jess made a face and put the two shirts in her hands back in the closet.  She sorted through his rows of suits and dress shirts.

"I guess.  But don't you dare leave with her.  Anywhere."

"I'm her date.  I'm picking her up.  I have to take her home."

"She can catch a cab.  Don't trap yourself somewhere with her."

"I can handle myself, Jess.  I've known Meg for years and I can handle her too."

"That's what I'm afraid of," his sister muttered not quite soft enough for him not to hear.  "How about this.  This is blue."

"It's a little casual," Cas said as he stood up from his king sized bed and walked over to the closet.

"You said this thing is at a bar.  Bars are the epitome of casual."  Jess held the blue Henley up to Cas' chest.  "Yes, this will work nicely.  And you haven't even taken the tags off it yet."

"Yeah, I bought it that day I bought the outfit for the firefighter auction."

"Ah, I see, oh!  Wear it with those jeans.  That's perfect."

"I thought we were trying not to dress to entice Meg."

"You're the one who said you can handle her.  You might as well look great while you do."  Jess found the jeans hanging at the end of the closet and pulled them out.  "Put this on."

Cas changed while Jess sorted through his watch collection, her back politely turned to her stripping brother.

"So how did your date with the Fire Chief go?" Cas asked.  "Did you ever stop cancelling on him?"

"Hey, it wasn't just me.  He had stuff too.  But, yeah we did eventually work out a time."

"And?"

"And it was kind of awesome.  I haven't been to Coney Island since--probably since I was in pigtails."

"You never wore your hair in pigtails."

"You know what I mean."  Jess turned around and handed Cas a sleek black Tag Heur wristwatch.  "It was actually great.  We played skeeball and ate chili cheese dogs and he won me a stuffed teddy bear.  Best night out I've had in a long time."

"Nothing...weird...happened.  Did it?"

"No.  You freak.  It was like going out with Dad or something."

"That's what I mean by weird, Jess.  You try to find Dad in every man you date."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do.  Raphael was the only exception."

Jess turned away and walked into the bathroom.  "Raph was the exception to a lot of things."  She returned with a bottle of the cologne she had bought him for Christmas.  She pumped two sprays into the air in front of Cas and he knew that he was supposed to walk through it.

"There," Jess said, putting a hand on her hip.  "You look good, you smell good.  You will be holding up your end of the deal to make Meg's ex jealous.  Which ex is this?"

"Some contract specialist named Ruby something or other."

"Hmm.  I don't think I know her."

"She doesn't do corporate contracts, she does like prenupts and end of life stuff.  But not like to make them, but to find the loopholes in them."

"Ah.  Sounds classy."

Cas shrugged.  "There are worse things."

"Like being a DA or representing greedy corporations?"

"Exactly."

They smiled at each other.  Then Cas put on a pleading expression and grabbed Jess' hand.

"Please come tonight.  I'm not going to know anyone but Meg and I can't spend the entire night talking to her.  Or listening to her talk."

Jess made a face.  "I don't know.  It's kind of weird to crash a business party."

"No, it's all lawyers.  You'll blend right in."

"It sounds like it'll be crowded."

Cas didn't have a counterargument for that one.  "It'll be good practice?  Getting out again?"

Jess made another even unhappier face.  "I guess I could make an appearance."

Cas grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek.  "You're the best, sis."

"I know.  But hey, speaking of firefighter dates, did you ever go on yours?"

"Oh, um, no.  His was a date to a Yankees game, which one I hate the Yankees.  And two his tickets were for a weekday game and I had work and stuff."

Jess' brow creased, a little confused.  "Yeah, but you could have gotten a day off.  Or taken him to a weekend game using the firm's box seats."

"Yeah, it just didn't work out."

"But you guys seemed to hit it off.  What happened after you snuck off with him that night?"

"We didn't _sneak_ off.  We just went for a piece of pie at one of his local haunts."

Jess wrinkled her nose.  "Pizza after chili?"

"Not a slice, an actual piece of pie.  With like fruit and stuff."

"Oh.  So, what happened?"

Cas shrugged.  "Nothing.  That's why we never really tried to set up a date, you know?  There was nothing going.  We didn't click or anything."

Jess looked at him doubtfully and he looked up from putting on his shoes.

"What?"

"Nothing.  It just seemed like you two were kind of--sparking."

Well, I mean, yeah there was some mutual attraction--"

" _Some_?"

"But after we talked, you know, it kind of fizzed out."

"Oh, bummer.  He turned out to be a loser or something?"

"No.  Not at all.  We just.  Didn't mesh."

Jess shrugged a shoulder in empathetic commiseration.  Cas tried to ignore the heat on his cheeks and the itchy feeling on the back of his neck.  Jess had always been able to tell when he was lying.  Fortunately she didn't seem to think that this would be something he would lie about so she wasn't scrutinizing him.

"Alright.  Well, you better get going or you're going to be late picking up your date," Jess said, sticking out her tongue after the word "date."

"And you better get home and change into something you can wear to a bar."

"What, you think a Chanel suit is inappropriate?"

"Nothing you wear is ever inappropriate.  You'll just make all the other girls feel bad because you'll be so much prettier.  Although changing your clothes won't change that."

"Aw, so sweet.  Such a nice little brother."

"I am."  Cas kissed her forehead.  "Alright.  Out.  Call me if you decide not to come, okay?"

"Okay."

Cas walked Jess out and the doorman put her in a taxi to take her back to her apartment on the west side.  A few minutes later the car service Cas had reserved showed up.  He steeled himself in the backseat for an evening out with Meg.  Even back when he had _liked_ liked her, he'd never really liked going anywhere with her.  When they were alone, she didn't put up a front and he felt like he was able to see the real Meg--who was actually someone he liked a lot.  But who Meg was out in the world--she was sarcastic and jaded and at times cruel in her attempts to amuse herself and entertain others.  Cas had never been able to reconcile the two sides to her, and he even had trouble just being friends with her at times.  Hopefully she would be true to her word tonight and only wanted him for appearance's sake and wasn't expecting anything from him.

He really hoped that was the case when he saw her as she walked down the sidewalk to the car like she was on a runway.  She wore a vibrant red dress in a vintage 40's kind of style.  She looked really good and Cas didn't need or want the temptation.  Once they were in the backseat he paid her a generic compliment and kept his eyes facing forward.

"I feel underdressed," Cas said.

"Mm, I'm probably overdressed.  But Ruby picked this dress out for me, and I want her to regret the fact that she dumped me for some overgrown manchild.  Who promptly dumped her I might add."

"Meg, don't you think you'd be happier if you didn't focus so much on the bad things in life?"

"What's bad about getting a little revenge?  It feels good."

Meg looked at him like she really didn't understand what he meant by her question.  Cas sighed softly.  Meg would never change, but people never really did.  The same way his father always promised to get better and be more involved in his children's lives.  And then he would disappear again.  It hadn't been so bad when his mother had still been alive, but that had been a scant eight years of his life.  The car crash that had killed her had also killed Jess' parents, but not his father.  Because he hadn't been there.  Cas and Jess were in foster care for nearly two months before his father finally returned.  Being Jess' godfather, he'd obeyed the Moore's last wishes and adopted the five year old girl.  They’d even changed her last name to Novak, which had been Castiel’s mother’s surname and the one he used instead of his father’s.

For the first couple of years, things had been good.  Really good.  His father had been around and he'd been fun and caring and attentive.  But then he'd started disappearing again, leaving them in the care of various nannies and distant relations.

Cas and Jess would have resented him, but when he _had been_ there...life had been so _good_.  So good that when he was gone all they could do was long for the time he would be back, and then forget what it was like when he was gone when he was around.  It was a vicious cycle of emotional whiplash, but they'd come out of it alright.  If perhaps a little wary of making commitments to other people.  Neither of them had ever had what might be classified as a long term relationship.  Not until Jess had met Raphael.  A match that still puzzled Cas to this day, but he couldn't deny that Raph had been good to Jess, kind and loving.  He was a complete asshole to everyone else, but Cas could tell that Jess had been some sort of special and unique snowflake to him.  Or something.  He still didn't understand exactly how those two had come together, but for the duration of their short-lived and tragically ended marriage, they had been happy.

~~~

The party was at an upscale bar in the Flatiron district, and Cas was relieved to see that he wasn't the only one in jeans.  Though the designer labels made it clear no one was dressed in under five hundred dollars worth of clothing and jewelry.  The DA's office had reserved a large room in the back that had its own dedicated bar.  Generic rock music played at a moderate level and the din of the partygoers was quite loud to be heard over it.  Meg kept Cas on her arm for the first half hour, until they came across a petite brunette with full lips and beautiful brown doe eyes.  Meg pretended to bump into her by accident.

"Oh, excuse me, I'm so sor--Ruby?  Is that you?"

The woman smirked.  "You know it is, Meg."

"Hm.  How are you?"

"Great.  You?"

"Fantastic.  The Blacked Eyed Mafia is defunct, I'm drinking free booze, and I've got a hot date."

Ruby's eyes slid to Castiel and looked him up and down.

"Oh, do you know Castiel, Ruby?  He's a defense attorney with The Finnerman Firm."

"I know him only by reputation.  This is the first time I've met him in person."

"Well then, Ruby Bates, Castiel Novak."

Castiel and Ruby shook hands but before they could exchange pleasantries, Meg spoke again.

"So, Ruby, where is that handsome giant you're dating?  The one with the gorgeous hair and big hands?"

Ruby smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes by a long shot.  "We broke up."

Meg put on a show of sympathy.  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yes, but I'm okay.  We actually broke up quite some time ago.  I can't believe you hadn't heard about it yet."

Meg shrugged a delicate shoulder.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," Ruby said, showing off her half full martini glass, "I think I need a refill."

"Bye dear," Meg said as she watched Ruby push her way through the crowd back up to the bar.  Meg turned to Cas, still grinning, but then stopped when she saw his expression.  "What?"

Cas sighed and shook his head.  "Nothing.  Was that everything you hoped it would be?"

"And more."  She clinked her highball glass against the beer bottle in his hand.  "Cheers."  Meg swallowed off the rest of her gin and tonic and set the empty glass on a table.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business I need to attend to that will work out better if I don't have an attractive man with me."  She adjusted her dress so that her cleavage was on better display and then gave him a little wave as she approached a group of older gentlemen.  Cas smiled and shook his head as he took a swig of his beer, almost finishing it off.  He decided to go ahead and get another, the DA's office was paying after all, and made his way over to the opposite end of the bar he had seen Ruby walk toward.

Cas placed his order with the bartender and leaned on the bar as he waited.  He checked his watch and then glanced around the room.  He didn't see Jess' tall, blonde head anywhere.  He checked his phone, but he hadn't received any messages saying she was backing out.  The bartender returned with his beer and he took another large swallow.

"Hey, um, Cas, right?"

Cas turned his head.  And then looked up.  He blinked in a little surprise.

"Sam Winchester, right?"

"Yeah!"

They shook hands.

"Good to see you again," Sam said.

"You too.  Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing at this party?  I thought you practiced family law."

"Oh, I do.  I was involved in the Black Eyed Mafia case because a lot of the children were stuck in the middle of really vicious custody suits after all the arrests went down.  I helped keep the children out of foster care and got them placed with relatives that are completely unaffiliated with the family business."

"Oh, wow.  I guess when you hear about these big bad mafia dons going down, you never think about the fact that the term 'family' does also mean actual families with innocent kids."

"Yeah, it was a real mess.  But everything has been sorted out for the best, I think.  I've been keeping tabs on them and I think they'll be okay."

"That's amazing, Sam.  You're amazing for being so dedicated."

The tall man blushed and Cas smiled at his humble nature.

"So, are you here...?"  Sam trailed off and then said, "I hope not because this is the consolation prize for the losing defense team?"

Cas laughed.  "No, not at all.  If I had represented them, this party wouldn't be happening."

Sam started to laugh, but then stopped, getting that look on his face that people did when they realized exactly what kind of business defense attorneys conducted.  Cas cleared his throat.

"Um.  I was invited by a friend."

"Alfie?"

"No, someone else."

"Oh.  So, I guess that means your sister isn't here then."

"Uh, no not yet, but I'm expecting her actually."

Sam's face lit up and Cas was simultaneously pleased that someone thought his sister was great and displeased that some strange man was showing interest in his precious baby sister.

"Oh, that's...interesting.  Um, so can I ask something...I noticed that you and she have different last names."  Doing a miserable job at trying to look nonchalant, Sam looked at the bar and wiped up a water ring with a cocktail napkin.  "Is that because she's married or..."

Cas almost felt the urge to pat him on the head.  "She was married.  Her husband passed away three years ago, but she kept his name."

"I see.  So, three years.  Is she still, um, is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's had time to grieve and adjust.  She's actually looking to get back out into the dating world again."

Sam's head snapped up and he had the biggest grin on his face.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah.  But, uh, Sam.  She...she lost him in...well."

"It's okay.  You don't have to tell me anything."

"I just want you to know that she's still recovering from a traumatic experience herself and she doesn't always handle public settings very well.  Especially in crowds."

Sam's eyes went wide.  "Then why is she coming here?"

"Practice."

Sam kind of nodded his head and raised his eyebrows, and Cas could tell that he was making the decision not to make a comment.

"Well.  Then.  Um...oh!  Speaking of siblings, my brother is here somewhere."

Cas' body jerked involuntarily and he knocked his knee against the bar.

"Ouch!"

"You okay?" Sam asked, leaning forward and looking confused.

"Yeah, yeah, fine.  Just had a charlie horse."  Cas reached down and rubbed his leg for show.

"Oh, man, I hate those."

"Yeah, they're the worst."  Cas looked at Sam's face carefully, trying to read if there was any amusement or cruelty.  Perhaps Dean had told him what had happened between them and now Sam was jerking him around.  But he saw only open friendliness on the man's face.

"You should really talk to him," Sam said, looking around.  "He was here just a second ago.  He said he really enjoyed your date, but forgot to get your number so he's been a little mopey."

Cas' brow creased and his mouth opened and closed.  Now he was really confused.  So Sam did know about their "date."  But why would Dean tell Sam that he'd "forgotten" to get his number?  Clearly they had parted on "never going to see each other again" terms.

"I'm not sure why he wants to see you again though," Sam said with a teasing smile.  "Apparently you hate the Yankees.  Usually that's a deal breaker for him.  That and hating pie or Led Zeppelin."

Cas closed his mouth, still swimming in the open ocean of this conversation and having no idea where solid land was.  Also, he apparently had three strikes in Dean Winchester's book, so why was he talking to his brother like he was interested in him?

"It was nice of you to go to a game with him when you hate them so much."

"But I didn't—”  Cas cut off.  Had Dean said that they'd gone on their auction date?  Maybe he'd done it to save face.  He didn't want to blow his cover—whatever he was covering for—so he said, "I didn't mind it.  Baseball games are always fun.  Besides, I could root for the Orioles or whoever is playing."

Sam laughed.  “He must really like you.”

Cas stiffened, surprised by that response.  “W-why would you say that?”

“Because if you were sitting with him at a Yankees game rooting for the other team and you lived to tell the tale—you must be something special.”

Cas blushed and looked down.  He could tell Sam’s smile had widened into a grin.  He was completely misinterpreting Cas’ reaction, thinking he and Dean had really hit it off and were well on their way to exchanging class rings and holding hands in the hallway.  He felt like he should clear up all these incorrect assumptions, but then he would have to admit he just lied about going to the game with Dean.  Why had he lied about that?  God, he had issues.  But, really, shouldn’t Sam at least think it strange that if they were such a lovey-dovey couple that he would have seen him at some point in the last two months?  Then again, after his break up with Uriel, Cas had managed to avoid seeing him even though Uriel’s brother was married to his sister.  In fact, he hadn’t seen him again until Raph’s funeral.  That day had sucked.

Thankfully Sam’s attention was diverted when someone called out his name loudly.  He waved a hand acknowledging that he would come over.  He gave Cas a friendly pat on his arm.

“It was good seeing you again.  I’ll say hi to Jess if I see her.”

Cas kept his smirk to a minimum as he thought, _I’m sure you will_.

“We’ll talk later.”

“Sure,” Cas replied with a smile even though he figured they would probably never see each other again after this night.

“Oh, here, I won’t leave you hanging.”

Sam grabbed somebody’s arm and spun him around so that he took Sam’s place at the bar as Sam wiggled his way through the crowd to meet his other friends.  That somebody, of course, was Dean Winchester.  They stood facing each other in the crowded room amid a barrage of sounds and smells and sights on the senses.  But for a moment, all Cas saw was the elegant cut of Dean’s jaw and those spring green eyes, all he smelled was the light earthy cologne he wore with a hint of woodsy smoke, and all he heard was his name tumbling from Dean’s beautiful lips in surprise.  It was a nice moment.  And then he was shoved back into reality where alcohol and fried foods saturated the air and a multitude of conversations tried to be heard over rock music, and he was standing in front of the guy he had blown, dry humped, and then promptly dropped like a bad habit.

Cas cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse when he said, “Hello, Dean.”

He could see Dean struggling to decide what to do next, and then he defaulted to cocky SOB.  He leaned one arm on the bar and smiled smugly.

“You stalking me, Cas?”

Cas maintained eye contact and prided himself on not blushing.  Or maybe he was already flushed.  Whatever.  Either way there wouldn’t be a discernible change on his face.

“This party is mainly for lawyers, Dean.  Don’t you think I have more of a reason to be here than you do?”

Dean shrugged a shoulder, unimpressed with his rational logic.  “I still find it odd that you showed up to a party that doesn’t involve your firm.”

Cas was curious why he would know that for certain, but he had better ammunition.

“And I find it odd that you told your brother we went on our auction date.”

Dean's smug expression sort of froze for a second, like he had experienced a glitch in his system, but he recovered quickly and kept up the smarm.  If Cas hadn't had his eyes glued to Dean's face, he probably wouldn't have even noticed it.  But he had.

"Auction date?  Oh, to the baseball game."

Cas felt his face shift into slight pitying disbelief.  Was Dean really trying to pass it off like he didn't know what Cas was talking about?  It was kind of adorable, and yet also kind of pathetic.  And damn it all if both didn't just make him more attractive.

"Yeah, see, I uh...told my brother that because...Okay.  So, after you bailed, I figured I didn't want to waste the tickets, right?  So I made a date.  Yoga instructor.  Very bendy."  Dean gave him a quick salacious raise of his eyebrows and a grin.

Cas tried to repress a smile and failed miserably.  "Okay.  Bendy yoga instructor.  What happened with him?"

"Well, _she_ has a kid, and her sitter bailed on her at the last minute and couldn't go—”

"Ah, the sitter canceled," Cas said in what he knew was an obnoxiously knowing voice.

Dean narrowed his eyes.  " _Yes_.  It wasn't some lame excuse."

Cas put his hands up in mock surrender.

" _Anyway_ , I decided to go alone.  Not gonna waste a ticket to a Yankees game."

"One might argue that a Yankees ticket in and of itself is a waste."

"And one might argue that one is an asshole who needs to shut his cake hole."

Cas let out a bark of laughter, and then tried to school his features into looking like he was offended.

"Do you wanna know the story or not?"

Cas smiled and nodded.  Dean rolled his shoulders a bit.

"Okay then.  I went to the game, but I didn't bother to call Sam and I knew he'd be pissed that I didn't offer him the other ticket, so I just told him that I went with you."

"What'd you do with the other ticket?"

Dean shrugged a shoulder.  "Scalped it," he said like that should be obvious.

"Well, I stand corrected, Dean.  That's a perfectly rational explanation."

"Of course it is.  Because it's the truth."

"Mm-hmm.  Then why did you tell your brother the date went great and you were upset that you didn't get my contact information?"

"He told you—that little shit.  Jesus, Cas, because like I'm going to tell people I bombed on a date?  I got a reputation to uphold."

"Yes, but you could have said it went well, but we just didn't click."

"I could say that but I'm not a chick in a freakin' romcom."

Cas let out a huff of laughter.

"Besides," Dean said softly, dropping his eyes, "I don't know how you felt about that night, but I did have a good time.  And I enjoyed it.  Right up until you told me I wasn't worth seeing again."

Cas felt like he'd been shot.  But not with something so easy as a gun.  It was like a large thick crossbow bolt had just thumped into his chest.

"God, Dean…” Cas couldn't even finish his sentence.  He didn't have enough air left; he felt like he'd actually been punched in the sternum.

"Hey man," Dean said, straightening and laughing it off.  "It's not like I'm some delicate flower and you hurt my feelings or anything—”

"But that's not what I meant!"

Dean started and a couple of people nearby turned their heads at his raised voice.  He quickly lowered it.

"I mean, I didn't mean to imply that you weren't worth more than..." he lowered his voice further and leaned closer, "a dry hump in a hallway.  I just—I have never done anything like that before in my life."

"A dude?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.  "That was some amazing technique for a first timer."

"Not that," Cas growled and Dean's lips twitched in amusement.  "I don't do one night stands.  I don't—not with a stranger."

"I didn't think we were strangers anymore."

Cas inhaled deeply.  "But...we...um.  We—”

"Look, Cas, it's fine.  I'm serious, you didn't hurt my feelings.  Maybe my pride a little bit.  But we had a good time and then it ended.  And we can leave it at that."

_I don't want to leave it at that._   Cas swallowed thickly.  "Yeah.  Okay.  I mean, yeah.  That makes sense."

Dean looked at him for a moment, his eyes scanning over his face, down his body, and then back up.

"Yeah.  So.  I'll see you around, Cas," Dean said.  He turned to leave and patted him on the arm impersonally as he walked away.  Castiel felt embarrassed and like he was the biggest turd on the planet.  He turned to fully face the bar and raised a hand to get a bartender's attention.

"Tequila, please.  Make it a double."

The bartender raised a brow but poured out two shots of tequila and left him alone.  Cas threw one back, made a face at the awful taste and burn (that fucking bartender had given him some cheap ass tequila), and then dropped his head onto the pillow of his arms on the bar.

"Hey, big brother."

Cas turned his head and was mildly surprised to see his sister leaning over so she could look him in the eyes.

"You came out."

"And you're drinking hard liquor."

"Long story."

Jess straightened and picked up the second shot of tequila.  Cas raised his head and put up a finger.

"Uh, you might not want to drink that."

"Please, Cas, I'm a recluse not a pansy."

She tossed back the alcohol and her face screwed to the side as the liquor went down.

"I was just trying to warn you it was cheap tequila."

"Thanks for the warning," she said, voice roughened by the abuse it had just undergone.  "But I would have needed it anyway."  Jess inhaled deeply.  "The exit is in another room.  Did you know that?"

Cas stepped close and gently rubbed her shoulder.  "Hey look right over there.  See the glowing exit sign?  There's a fire exit right over there."

"It could be blocked—”

Cas cut her off quickly.  "It's not.  I checked.  First thing I did."

"What if it's blocked from the outside?"

He hadn't even thought to check the alleyway.  "I—I'm sure it's not.  And besides, there's a fireman here."

"What?"

"Remember my date?  From the Brooklyn firehouse?  He's here."

"Does he have any of his equipment?"

"N-no."

"Then what good will that do me?"

Cas conceded the point.

"Other than to tease you about how you blushed when you mentioned him."

Cas was certain he'd hadn't blushed at all because he was focused on soothing his sister's nerves, but he was blushing now.

"Screw you.  You are a terrible sister."

"Naw.  I'm the best.  I just think it's cute that you have a crush."

Cas repressed his annoyed huff.  If this would help take her mind of the possibility of being trapped inside a burning building—for a second time—he'd let her make fun of him all she wanted.

"It's not a crush."

"But it is!  My gosh, Cas, do you remember the last time you had a crush?  I do.  It was in high school.  Remember Muriel?  You couldn't walk five feet without running into things when you were around her.  And you totally jumped right into trying to kiss her when you normally took months just to want to hold hands with somebody.  Total crush.  Everyone else you've ever dated—you've always had this rational plan of how the relationship worked.  Not very romantic."

"What exactly was rational about my relationship with Uriel?"

"It made it easier for you to keep tabs on me and Raph."

Cas flinched a little.  "That's a little harsh.  I cared about Uriel.  A lot."

"I know, I'm sorry.  I just meant—you never got flustered around him or anything, did you?  Ever lose concentration or feel butterflies in your stomach around him?"

No, he definitely hadn't but he wasn't going to confirm anything for his know-it-all sister.

"Okay, so, what on earth makes you think any of that is happening with Dean?  You saw us together for all of two minutes at the firehouse and I was flustered because I'd just bought a hot guy.  You were flustered when you talked to your grandpa date!"

"Okay, one he's not that old.  And two—he's actually very handsome."

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Cas said, putting up a hand.

Jess grabbed his fingers and lowered his hand.  "I know you're all blushy and flustered around Dean because I got here ten minutes ago.  I was watching you flirt, pretty decently, with your hot fireman.  Until you said something to insult him or pissed him off.  What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything.  And I wasn't—”

Cas cut off.  It wasn't worth it.  Even when he was right he rarely won an argument with his sister.  He spotted a head towering above the crowds out of the corner of his eye and waved a hand and shouted at it.  Sam started to make his way over, grinning when he spotted Jess.  Jess elbowed Cas in the ribs.

"You brat.  You never finish an argument!  You're such a chickeny rat bast—Hi!" Jess said brightly as Sam got close enough to hear her.

"Sam, you remember my sister, Jessica Finnerman?  Jess, this is Sam Winchester, Alfie's friend.  He helped all the children of the Black Eyed Mafia get properly cared for when their parents were arrested."

Cas saw Jess' irritation at him flicker away to a distant memory as her face softened into impressed admiration.  She smiled at Sam, and Cas noticed that she really didn't need to look up that much to do it.  She and Cas were the same height, and in her heels she was not that much shorter than Sam.  A good match then.

"That must have been very hard on you," Jess nodded empathetically, reaching out to brush a hand down his arm.  "I can't imagine many of them actually appreciated what you were trying to do for them."

Sam sucked air in through his teeth as he nodded.  "That's true.  Especially the little ones who really didn't understand why they were being taken away from their mommies.  At times it was hard to remember that it really was for their own good."

Jess tilted her head slightly, eyes locked with Sam's.  Cas looked back and forth between them.  He wasn't sure they remembered he was there.

"Well," he said, clapping his hands and startling them both.  "This is a party and you guys are killing my buzz with all this talk of misplaced children."

"Cas," Jess said his name in a dry monotone.

"I should go find my friend, but you two stay here and talk."  Cas gave Jess' hand a squeeze.  "You need me or need to leave, just text me.  I'll keep my phone in hand, okay?"

Jess nodded and Cas gave Sam a smile before he walked away to look for Meg.  He pulled out his cell phone, set it to vibrate, and kept it clasped in his hand.  He spotted Meg on the other side of the room.  He paused as he watched her smirk at two women and a man.  He knew that smirk.  She was watching them squirm either because she had revealed an embarrassing secret about one to the other two, or she had just "casually" mentioned some information that was about to start a fight.  He wasn't in the mood to deal with that.  He glanced around to see if there was group he could jump into or if he needed to just go hang out against a wall and do his best potted plant impersonation.  Fortunately he saw a sign for the bathroom and made his way over even though he didn't need to use the facilities.  He got to the door just as a familiar broad shouldered back did and was faced with an amused Dean Winchester as the man turned to hold the door open for the person behind him.

"Well, well, here you are stalking me, again."

Cas only responded with a bland expression as he followed him into the restroom, slipping his phone into his pants pockets.  He had no choice but to at least attempt trying to pee now.  Otherwise Dean would be wondering why he'd decided to just go hang out in a bathroom.

"Seriously, dude.  Creeping on me in the men's room.  Smells a little desperate."

"I am not 'creeping' on you in the bathroom.  If I had followed you in here with any sort of intent, you would _know_ it."

"Oh, really?"  The door closed fully behind them with a soft snick.  "How would I _know_?"

Cas had his fingers curled in the soft material of Dean's green pullover and Dean's back shoved against the wall before his brain even registered what he was doing.  But as long as he was doing it, he might as well go through with it.  He pressed himself against Dean, rubbing their groins together and putting his lips a scant centimeter from the other man's as he said, "You'd have picked up on a clue or two."

Cas leaned back and Dean let out a small, disgruntled noise and leaned after him.

"Come on, don't tease," Dean complained.

Their lips met and it was hard to say which one actually initiated the contact, but now that it was happening, it wasn't stopping.  Cas pushed a knee between Dean's legs and felt himself harden at the soft moan that spilled from Dean and into his mouth.  Dean's hands were in his hair, holding him close, directing the angle of his head.  Cas was engrossed in the kiss, but he did have a spare thought to wonder what on earth had come over him.

Then Dean's hands were at the fly of his jeans, working it open.  This would be a good time to stop.  They could enjoy their little flirtation and daringness to get frisky in a public men's room, but they certainly weren't going to do anything stupid.

At least, those were the thoughts going through Cas' head as he sucked on Dean's lower lip and fumbled with the button on his jeans.  The sharp whir of zippers was almost simultaneous and Cas got a hand on Dean over his boxer-briefs at the same time Dean got a hand on him—underneath his briefs.

"Shit," Cas hissed against Dean's lips.  "Not wasting any time are you?"

"Who knows how long we have before someone—”

The door started to open.  Cas froze like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck.  Fortunately Dean was a little more with it and hurriedly pushed Cas into a stall and slammed the door shut.  Two men came into the bathroom, talking about one of the judges in the seventh circuit court.  Dean squeezed Cas' dick and he squeaked.  With a disapproving look, Dean slapped a hand over Cas' mouth and pulled him completely out of his pants.  He could feel his eyes go wide as he realized he was getting a hand job while two men used the urinals against the opposite wall.

Then Dean released him and he breathed in relief, pressing his lips against Dean's palm because, well, it was there and he wanted to taste more of him.  Then he realized that Dean hadn't stopped because he had any sense of decorum, but so that he could shove his jeans down to mid thigh.  Then his hand was back on Cas' cock, pulling him forward and slotting it between his thighs.  Cas held back his cry of surprise and pleasure as best he could and was grateful Dean's hand was able to muffle the rest of it.  The men at the urinals laughed at a bad joke at the expense of the unwitting judge and then moved to the sinks.  As soon as the water turned on, Dean began circling his hips and pulling Cas against him with one hand planted firmly on his ass.

Cas' hands twisted in Dean's shirt and he closed his eyes and focused on staying quiet as he humped against Dean and felt his cock being rubbed to within an inch of its life between Dean's silky thighs.  His grip tightened to the point of pain and he was holding his breath as his arousal built.  He felt his whole body straining with the quick and dirty pleasure and a serious need for release.  The closing door cut off the fading laughter of the two men.  Cas threw his head back, away from Dean's hand, and huffed and grunted as he came between Dean's legs, his hips jerking and fingers flexing in the wrinkled mess of Dean's shirt.  He sucked in one desperately needed breath before Dean was kissing him and he had no choice but to kiss back.

He felt Dean's body gently jerking against him as they kissed, and he moved a hand down to cover Dean's as he jacked himself.  He was probably hindering Dean more than helping him, but he wanted to touch him.

"Come on, baby," Cas heard someone saying, realizing it had to be himself because Dean's lips were now sealed against his neck.  "Come on.  Fucking come on me.  Please, baby, you know where."

And Dean must have known what Cas meant by that because just as he tensed up, he angled his dick down and shot his load between Cas' legs, coating his balls and perineum.  Cas gasped and could feel the smile on his face as he felt Dean's come running down his inner thighs.

Dean leaned against Cas and Cas leaned against the stall wall, both panting and drifting in a pleasant afterglow.  Cas raised an arm and fanned his fingers through Dean's hair, holding the man close and trying to piece together what had just happened.

"What you do to me," Cas whispered softly.

"Hmm?" Dean asked, stroking a hand over his hip.

"I don't do stuff like this."

Dean lifted his head and looked Cas in the eyes.  "That's a shame because you're very good at it."

Cas let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.  Before he could respond, someone else came into the bathroom.  The person shuffled hurriedly into the stall next to them, slammed the door shut, and struggled with his clothing.  Then there was a loud farting sound and a chunky, watery expulsion making splashdown.  The man let out a moan of unpleasant relief and a moment later the smell hit them.  They struggled not to gag or laugh out loud and Dean quickly hopped up onto the toilet seat.  They continued to silently giggle around dry heaves as they wiped down their thighs and pulled their pants up.  They shot each other dirty looks and put their fingers over their lips to shush the other when they got too loud.  At best they could only hope that the man still having a situation on the toilet was too preoccupied to notice what was going on in the stall next door.

Once they were mostly decent, Cas opened the stall door, stepped out and glanced around.  Noting no one else was in the room, he waved to Dean and he stepped off the toilet.  They both got their hands under a sink just as the door opened again and two more men entered the bathroom.  The conversation cut off as one of them went, "Phew!" and wrinkled his nose.  The other man shot them a look.  Dean hooked a thumb over his shoulder indicating the closed bathroom stall door.

"How about a courtesy flush, man?" one of the men said as he stood at the urinal.

There was a pause, and then the toilet flushed.  Cas finished drying his hands with a paper towel and finally burst out laughing.   Dean shushed him and Cas allowed himself to be pulled through the bathroom door.  He leaned heavily against Dean, loving how solid he was.  How he wasn't struggling in the slightest to support him.  They made their way to a corner of the room, which was by no means dark or secluded, but at least they had some semblance of separation from the crowd.

Cas turned to face the wall, half his body pressed down the length of Dean's as he still tried to repress his laughter.

"Oh my God, what just happened?"

He gently bit his lip as he felt Dean's hand at his waist.

"I have no idea, dude.  It was probably that crab-artichoke dip."

Cas pulled back in confusion and then realized Dean was talking about the man in the stall.  He lightly hit his shoulder, but was unable to pull away as Dean's fingers curled into his side, keeping him close.

"That's not what I meant," Cas said with a laugh.

"I know," Dean said quietly.  "It was a first for me too."

"Really?"

"Why do you say that like it's a surprise?  All of our impromptu activities have been instigated by you."

Cas flushed but maintained eye contact.  "I don't know.  I distinctly remember you making the first move that night."

"No, that would be when you dropped a cool grand in a desperate bid to take me home."

"Whatever," Cas grumbled.  "You started it when you slid down that damn pole."

Dean grinned.  "Too bad that's the only pole I got to ride that night."

Cas laughed and dropped his forehead onto Dean's shoulder.  "Oh my God, who says stuff like that?"

Dean's laughter rumbled in his chest and Cas loved the feeling of being half in his embrace, leaning against him, sharing laughter and intimacy.  He imagined this must be what it felt like to experience the comforting familiarity of a lover's embrace.  Which was a ridiculous comparison because he'd only met this man _twice_.

Then he felt vibration on his thigh where it was pressed against Dean's.  He pulled away from Dean and quickly dug his phone out of his pocket.  He instinctively knew it was his sister.  He felt a rush of panic as he imagined her having sent a dozen desperate texts for help while he was busy losing his mind in a public bathroom.  He would have exhaled in relief as he saw that this was Jess' first message, but his chest tightened when he read it: I'm trappped by bar ans wall.

"Shit."

"Cas, you okay?"

"My sister, she needs me--"

"Go," Dean said immediately.

Cas looked up and met his eyes.

"Go, it's fine."

Cas turned and darted into the crowd making his way toward the bar.  He wasn't entirely sure where Jess was, but there weren't too many options.  He was almost to the end of the bar where he'd last seen her when Meg stepped into his path.

"Castiel!  Where have you been?  It's not much of a favor if you ditch me."

"I didn't ditch you; you sent me away."

Meg slid a hand up onto his shoulder.  "I didn't mean go away forever."

"Look, Meg," he took her hand and gently slid it off his shoulder.  "I can't--"

"And what happened to you?  You hair looks like you just went through ten rounds of really hot wall sex."

_Well, technically just one._   "Meg, listen, please.  Jess is panicking.  I have to get to her.  I'll call you later, okay?"

Meg shrugged a shoulder.  "Okay."

She moved so Cas could continue and he quickly threaded his way through the crowd, which seemed even larger now.  He saw Jess' blonde head behind a group of people who had inadvertently boxed her in by the bar.  He politely (as he could) pushed his way through them and grabbed Jess' hands.  She looked up at him with a slightly wild look in her eyes, but her breathing was even if a little shallow.

"Cas.  Hi.  It's fine.  I'm fine."

"You're not fine.  Let's go."

"No.  I can do this.  It's stupid.  It's in my head.  I'm fine.  I'm fine."

Cas wouldn't have believed her even if she hadn't delivered that in a slightly shrill voice.

"Jess, forcing yourself to be scared out of your mind is not a way to get over your fears."

"But everyone always says you have to face your fears."

"Not like this.  Come on, let's talk outside where you can breathe."

"But Sam--he was getting us drinks."

"He'll understand."

Cas put an arm behind her back and led the way out by nudging people left and right out of his way.  They made it into the main room and it was a little easier to maneuver their way to the exit.  Outside the air was warmer than the air conditioned room.  Mid September was still quite warm In New York, but at least the humidity had eased over the past couple of days.  Jess breathed in the warm air and looked immediately better now that she was out in the open.  She let out a noise of frustration.

"See?" she asked, turning to him and putting her arms out.  "I'm fine now.  Nothing wrong.  Why can't I get over this?  I mean, I'm indoors in my apartment.  I'm indoors at court.  I can even go to my office if I have to.  What does it matter if it's someplace else?"

"I think it's because you're familiar with those places.  You know your way out and that everything is up to code.  It's hard being in a strange place and thinking that if something goes wrong--well, never mind.  You did great, Jess.  Really.  You've really gotten so much better ever since we went to that silly charity event.  I'm proud of you.  But there's no reason to push yourself."

"Yes, there is!"

"What could possibly be worth putting yourself through that kind of strain?"

"Um, did you not see the really tall, really buff, really hot guy with luscious hair talking to me?"

Cas stared at her.  And then blinked.

"Really?!" he burst out.  "For a guy?!"

"He's hot!  And so sweet.  His smile is the best, Cas.  Simply.  The best."

"I'm about to punch you."

Jess laughed.  "Oh, come on.  I'm not even mentioning the fact that I saw you go into the bathroom after your firefighter and now your hair is all mussed and sexy."

Cas immediately finger combed his hair and made a face.  "It's not what you're thinking."  Which wasn't a lie because he was positive his sister would never guess what had really happened.

"Regardless.  I was being nice about your crush.  You can be nice about mine."

Cas scowled.  "A crush?"

Jess smiled and leaned against him.  "Yeah.  I really like him."

"After ten minutes."

She nodded.  "After ten minutes.  Can you...can you at least go inside and tell him I had to leave?  I don't want him to think that I ditched him.  Or that I'm crazy so don't tell him why."

Cas made a nervous face.  "Well, he might already have a vague idea of why..."

"Cas!"  Jess stepped back.

"Sorry.  We were discussing you before you showed up."

"You were _discussing_ me?"

"But it's a good thing.  He brought you up.  Wanted to know if you were married."

"That's still not—he did?  You think he's interested?"

"Sadly, my big brother instincts say yes."

Jess smiled to herself for a brief moment and then she pushed on his arm.  "Hurry up.  Go back inside and tell him that I had to leave and I'm not ditching him."

"Alright, alright," Cas grumbled, but he was actually grateful for the mission.  After he found Sam, he could find Dean and explain his sudden departure.  And maybe get his number.  Cas had broken his no casual sex rule twice with the guy and still felt more at ease with him than he had with some of his partners he'd dated for months before sleeping with them.  He'd never tried the casual approach before.  Maybe he should now.

When he made it back into the private room, he scanned the room, realizing he was looking for Dean and not Sam.  But Sam was who he saw first.  Sitting on a bar stool and wrapped in the arms of a tiny brunette, their lips locked together in what could only be described as a passionate kiss.  Cas waited a moment to see if Sam would push the woman away, but he didn't.  He was definitely kissing back.  He sighed unhappily.  Not just for his sister, but because he had liked the guy too.  He turned around and made his way back outside.  Jess smiled when she saw him.

"That was fast.  What did he say?  Honestly I kind of expected him to come out," she said trying to look around him at the door.

"We should go now."

"Why?  What he did say?"

"Nothing.  Hard to talk with your tongue down someone's throat."

Jess looked startled.  "He—he kissed you?"

"No, Jess, what—no.  It was someone else.  So, let's just go."

"But was it just on the cheek or—”

"Jess."

Jess' face fell.  "Oh.  Well.  I guess I am the one who technically ditched him."

"He shouldn't have left you just to get drinks.  The bar was right there."

"But we were going to have a Guinness.  They only had it on draft at the main bar, so he went up front to get them for us."

"Still.  Look, don't worry about it, okay?"

Cas stepped up to the curb and put his hand in the air as he saw a cab with a lit up sign approaching.  Jess moved to stand beside him as the cab pulled over and slowed down.

"Was she prettier than me?"

"Didn't see her face."

"Oh my God, lie, Cas."

"And what would make you feel better?  If she were pretty or hideous?"

Jess frowned.  "Good point."

Cas opened the door of the cab and then stepped back so Jess could slide in.  He got in after her and told the driver Jess' address.  The car took off and Cas signaled to Jess to put on her seatbelt.  She rolled her eyes but obeyed.

"So, even if I struck out with a Winchester," she said as she clicked her seatbelt into place, "how did you fare?"

Cas considered how to answer that.  "Fine."

"Yeah?  So are you going to see him again?"

"Um...probably not."

"Why not?"

"Because his brother was a dick to you."

"No, he wasn't.  He was very nice.  And even if he was that shouldn't affect you and—Dan?"

"Dean."

"You should give him a call."

"I can't."

Jess rolled her eyes.  "Come on, Cas."

"No, I mean, I _can't_.  I don't have his number."

"I'm sure you could get it."

"Probably.  But, this might be for the best.  He and I don't have that much in common.  And you can't build a relationship on just attraction alone.  Isn't that the lecture you always gave me about Meg?"

Jess raised an eyebrow.  "Is Dean really like Meg?"

"No, not at all.  But he's not like me either."

"So?"

Cas shot her a look and slumped down in his seat.  "Stop asking me hard questions."

Jess leaned back into her own seat and crossed her arms.

"Look," Cas said softly.  "Right now, Dean is--a really good memory.  I don't want him to become a regret by screwing things up."

"So, you're so worried about the relationship failing that you won't even _try_?"

Cas inhaled deeply and didn't reply.

"Cas, that's not you.  You're not some timid wallflower afraid to face people or even your own feelings."

"It's different with Dean."

"Why?"

"Because!  I can't--I can't stand the thought of..." Cas scrubbed a hand over his face.  "Jesus, of losing him," he finished with a miserable laugh.

Jess looked like she was trying to figure out a calculus problem.  "But.  If you don't even try to get him, you've already lost him!"

"Don't you think I know exactly how flawed my logic is?"

Jess gaped at him and then leaned forward to talk to the cabbie.  "I'm sorry.  Can you turn around and take us back to the bar you picked us up in front of?"

"Turn around?" the man asked through the partition.  He didn't look happy about the request.

"No," Cas said, pulling Jess back.  "Keep going."

"Keep going, turn back...What you want?" the man asked snappishly.

"Keep going to the address I gave you.  Jess, let it go."

"No!  Why are _you_ letting go?"

"Jess.  I'm a fucking grown man in my thirties.  Let me make my own decisions, alright?"

"I would if your decisions weren't so fucking stupid, you warped flea-bitten pignut!"

Cas stared at her indignant face.  And then he laughed.  Jess hit his shoulder.

"It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry," Cas said, but he was still laughing.  "But what was that insult?"

Jess' anger was undermined by her attempts not to laugh.  "I don't know.  I've been reading Shakespeare's comedies for fun."

"You _would_ read Shakespeare for fun."

"Oh shut up.  You read the _Kama Sutra_ for fun."

Cas gave her an odd look.  "I read the _Rigveda_ , Jess.  Huge difference."

"Whatever.  You're still a pignut."

"I may be.  But I'm a pignut who's going to make his own decisions.  However stupid they may be."

"Cas..."

Cas waited but Jess didn't speak again.  Not until they arrived at her building and she told him goodnight.


	4. The Hospital

"Castiel," Naomi said sharply.  "We have delayed this vote long enough.  It's been a month since the last meeting and we're not postponing it again."

Castiel got out of his chair and moved to intercept his boss as she made to leave her office.  They needed to have this conversation behind closed doors.  Especially since the subject of it probably had one or two of her goons camped out in the lush waiting room of The Finnerman Firm.

"Naomi, we can't do it today.  Without Anna here, we won't even have a stalemate.  You know Marv has manipulated the other partners into doing what he wants on this.”

“That’s a strong accusation, Castiel.  Do you really think you’re the only one here capable of thinking for himself?”

“No, of course not, I just meant—Naomi.  We cannot represent Abaddon the Destroyer.”

“Her name is Josie Sands, Castiel, and she’s been patiently waiting for an answer.  Please excuse me.”

Naomi tried to sidestep him but he got in her way again, blocking the door.  Naomi put a hand on her hip.

“Honestly, Castiel, you are behaving—“

“I told the ADA we wouldn’t.  In exchange for getting the charges dropped on Aaron Birch.  I told her I would vote against it.”

“Rather unethical, but you’re not breaking your promise to her.  You are voting no, I’m assuming.”

“But it was under the understanding that we wouldn’t represent her at all.  She and her whole group deserve to be behind bars.”

“That’s for the legal system to decide.”

“Really?  The legal system?  The one we subvert on a daily basis with unfair loopholes and questionable closed-door deals?”

“Castiel, if you don’t like the way this firm is run, you are free to tender your resignation at any time.”

“Naomi, you’re a good person.  Or at the very least you’re a business savvy one.”

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Think what will happen to our firm if it’s known that we kept her out of jail and she blows up something else?  We’re not talking about a mafia boss or some gold digger who helped her ninety year old husband shuffle loose his mortal coil.  She’s a terrorist, Naomi.  A mass murdering, psychotic terrorist.”

“Allegedly.”

Cas sighed.  He knew he’d lost.  “We should wait until Anna is back.  It’s not right to have a vote on something this big without her here.”

“Junior partners, like you, are given half a vote as a privilege, not a right.  The four partners could vote on this by ourselves without your input at all.”

“How would it turn out if only the four of you voted?  Call a meeting with just the partners, then.”

“I think it would go through, Castiel.”

“It wouldn’t!  You wouldn’t vote yes and neither would Gabriel.  Zachariah will, of course, but Michael—he wouldn’t…would he?”

“He might.  It would be a tie.  So, we’d have to call in a Finnerman to break the tie.  Which way do you think Uriel will vote?”

Cas rubbed the back of his head.  “I don’t know.  I know which way I could convince him to vote.”

“I see.  And where are your high morals when it comes to doling out sexual favors to get what you want?”

Cas flushed hotly; that was one of the sucky things about office romances.  Everyone thought he did it just to make junior partner, which was totally untrue.  “I wouldn’t sleep with him!  I’d only talk with him.”

“I’m sure it would start with talking—“

“Naomi!  Please.  I never used Uriel’s favor to get ahead here and I’m offended that you’re even suggesting it.  Besides—I wouldn’t—" Cas struggled to think of something that would convince Naomi he wasn't a sleep-his-way-to-the-top whore.  "Um...I wouldn’t want to risk—I wouldn’t cheat.  Yeah.  Cheat.”

“Cheat?” Naomi asked skeptically.

“Yes.  I’m seeing someone and getting my way in the office isn’t worth betraying his trust.”

“You’re dating someone.”  It wasn’t a question; it was a wry statement of disbelief.

Cas cleared his throat.  “Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Dean,” Cas blurted out.

“Where’s he live?”

“Brooklyn.”

“How did you meet a guy from Brooklyn?”

“Alfie is friends with his brother.”

Naomi crossed her arms.  “What does he do?”

“Firefighter.”

One eyebrow arched.  “Nice body?”

“Firefighter.  Awesome body.”

“Hm.  He sounds real.”

“He is real.”

“Well, then all that I can suggest is that you allow him to comfort you with his burly arms after this vote.”

“Nao—“

Naomi nudged him out of the way and exited her office.  Castiel followed her through the stark white hallways of The Finnerman Firm to the large conference room on the west side of the building.  Several people were already inside and Castiel’s final argument to Naomi died on his lips as he spotted Uriel standing in the doorway.  He tensed up.  What was he doing here?  The Finnermans rarely showed up for day to day business, and they showed up even less after Raphael had died.  Uriel and Virgil were the only two left in the family, and Virgil was only a cousin.  Uriel was the one power and ownership had fallen upon, and he’d been more than happy to let the firm run itself when he lost his brother.  It was very odd to see him here today, even with such a crucial vote taking place.  Castiel slowed his steps unconsciously and Naomi’s brisk walk carried her ahead so that Castiel reached the door alone.  He met Uriel’s eyes and couldn’t help but sweep his eyes over the man.  He was very handsome and he knew how to wear a suit.

“Castiel,” Uriel greeted him smoothly.

“Mr. Finnerman.”

Uriel’s lips twitched down into a frown.

“What brings you here?” Castiel asked.

“You think I wouldn’t be here when we’re voting on whether or not to represent the vilest piece of filth on the planet?”

Cas exhaled with relief.  “Oh, thank God.  I was so worried the vote would tip the wrong way with Anna out today.  I’m glad you’re here to do the right thing.”

Uriel hummed in response, but it didn’t sound particularly like he appreciated Castiel’s assessment of his reason for being present.

“Excuse me, Castiel,” a voice said from behind him.

He turned and saw Inias standing stiffly.  Cas took a step back and Inias entered the conference room.  He wasn’t a junior partner, but he would be keeping a record of the discussion and the vote.  Unless of course it was necessary to go off the record.

Uriel huffed out an annoyed laugh.  “Jesus, Cas, is there anybody in this office you haven’t slept with?”

Cas’ jaw dropped.  Then he snapped his mouth closed and hardened his eyes.

“That is a completely unfounded accusation and if I didn’t know any better I’d say it stemmed from jealousy and pettiness.”

Uriel dropped the harsh look on his face and looked away.

“But it couldn’t be jealousy,” Cas hissed, taking a step closer so no one could overhear them though he was certain people were looking at them.  “ _You_ ended it, remember?  You said you didn’t want me.  What could you possibly care what I do on my own time in my private life?”

“Excuse me?  _I_ didn’t want _you_?  Is that really how you remember it?”

“You ended it.  What else would it mean?”

“I ended it because I didn’t want someone who didn’t want me.”

“That’s such bullshit.  And besides.  I’m absolutely not dating anyone from the office.  Why would I?  I’m dating a hot firefighter.  Definitely not the stuck in an office, pasty type.”

Uriel raised a brow.  “I don’t think I qualify as ‘pasty.’”

“You know what I mean,” Cas snapped.

There was a pause.  And then they both laughed softly.

“Sorry,” Cas mumbled softly.

“No, it’s on me.  We just never could get along when we were using our mouths for talking.”

Cas looked away and licked his lips to help repress a smile.  He was quite aware that their connection had never been on any level but the physical one.

“Well, I hope your fireman is treating you right.  Better than I did, anyway.”

Cas chewed on the corner of his lip and kept his eyes focused on a spot on the light beige carpet of the hallway.  The question should really be if he was treating Dean right.  Not that it mattered since he wasn’t going to see the guy again.  It had been a month since the party and he hadn’t reached out to him, but neither had Dean made an attempt that he was aware of to contact him.  The same for Sam and Jess.  It seemed a shame that neither of them could make it work with a Winchester.

“Mr. Novak?”

Cas was saved from trying to come up with a response when his secretary approached him with a folder.

“You left this on your desk.  I thought you would need it for the meeting.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, Rachel.”

He smiled at her and she blushed and tittered awkwardly before turning and walking away quickly.  Cas looked up and saw Uriel giving him a knowing look.

“Wha--?  No.  I never slept with her.  She just has a crush.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m serious!”

“Gentlemen,” Naomi called from her seat at the head of the conference table.  “We’re ready to begin now.”

Uriel and Cas entered the room, shutting the door behind them.  Uriel took a seat at the top of the table near Naomi, and Cas sat toward the end.  Beside him Hester closed out a video on her phone and silenced it before setting it on the table.

“What was that?” Cas whispered to her as the rest of the room shuffled their papers around, getting ready to start the meeting.

“A video from the news.  They finally got that fire under control.”

“What fire?”

“Have you been under a rock?  Some apartment building in one of the boroughs.  It broke out three days ago and they’ve only just today got the last of the smoldering out.”

“Wow.  Intense fire.”

“Yep.  Best part is that because of some violations made during construction—it resulted in a catastrophic structural failure.  Like thirty or forty people were hurt or killed.  We’ll probably be representing the company that built the building and fucked up the infrastructure.”

“Wonderful,” Cas said dryly.

“Attention,” Naomi said, “Let’s get started.  We’re here to vote on representing Josie Sands in her upcoming civil case versus the families of the victims of the explosion in Union Square in June of last year, as well as to determine if we will continue to represent her if any other civil or criminal charges are ever brought against her, which would be as early as tomorrow.  We’ve discussed this at length for months now.  The time for discussion is over; we need to vote and be done with it.  A simple yea or nay is all that is required.  All those in favor?”

There was a chorus of “yeas” and some hands went up.

“Inias, please document that I count two partner votes and one and a half junior partner votes.  All those against?”

The “nays” sounded in the room and hands went up more emphatically.  Too bad feeling didn’t lend any weight to one’s vote.

“Inias, please document that I count two partner votes and one and a half junior partner votes.”

Cas was thrilled and surprised the vote had come out even.  Hester must have changed her mind at some point.  Now the vote would come down to Uriel, and Cas knew he would do the right thing.

“That’s three and a half to three and a half.  Inias, please document that Uriel Finnerman is here to break the tie.  Mr. Finnerman?”

Uriel laced his fingers together and set his hands on the table.  Everyone present was focused on him completely.

“This is a bit of a conundrum as many of us may question the morality of representing someone who is more than likely guilty of all she stands accused of.  Everyone has the right to an attorney, regardless of their innocence or guilt.  We here at The Finnerman Firm have always prided ourselves on upholding the Constitution and trusting the system that document has created.  Ours is a fair and just legal system and we can trust it to work as it should.”

Cas raised an eyebrow.  That was kind of bullshit.  Especially since this firm regularly exploited every technicality they could to circumvent its purpose.

“That being said, we should trust the system to sort out Ms. Sands’ guilt or innocence, and I see no reason why we can’t or shouldn’t represent her during the process.  I vote to retain Josie Sands as a client.”

“Inias, let the record reflect that Mr. Finnerman has settled the vote.  Josie Sands remains a client of The Finnerman Firm.  This meeting is adjourned.”

Cas sat in his chair, completely floored by what had just happened.  Everyone else was gathering their papers and murmuring quietly as they got up to leave.  Cas just let his eyes track Uriel until he was out the door and out of his sight—the man carefully avoiding looking Cas in the eye the whole time.  On his way out Marv paused by Cas’ chair to pat his shoulder.

“Buck up, Cas.  Just think of the awesome Christmas bonus we’ll get this year.”

Cas gnashed his teeth as the short, obnoxious man chuckled and walked out of the room.  Naomi stopped by his chair and he didn’t want to look up at her.  Finally he did after she didn’t speak or move away.

“You had better pay a visit to the ADA and tell her what happened.  And try to smooth things over if you can.”

Cas threw his pen across the room and slumped in his chair in misery.

“I mean it, Castiel.  Meg Masters is a big enough pain in our collective asses when we’re on her good side.  You do what you need to do to make this right with her.  And Castiel.”

Cas looked up, still scowling.

“I do mean anything.”

Cas was only mildly surprised his boss was telling him that if he needed to fuck Meg Masters to make her happy he had better well do it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.  Also, the Gallagher case is set for trial next month.  Make sure everything is in order.”

Cas didn’t respond as she left the room.  He didn’t even want to think about the Gallagher case.  One brother had killed the other’s girlfriend and they were going to free both of them because that was the easiest way to clear the innocent one.  If any new evidence came to light the police would never be able to charge Ansem because of double jeopardy.  If they were actually good lawyers they could get Andy off without releasing his psychotic brother back into the population.  Cas massaged his temple as he felt a headache coming on.  He needed a new job.  He should ask his sister about getting a job at her firm.  He could handle doing boring corporate law all day long.  Probably.

~~~

For the second time in as many days, Castiel sat slumped down miserably in a chair as a woman made him feel like a pathetic, spineless worm.  Not that he didn’t deserve it.

“So, let me get this straight, just to make sure I have all my facts,” Meg said as she sat behind her large lavish desk in her large opulent office.  Who said being a public official didn’t have any perks?  “You asked me to do you a personal and professional favor—one I did with relatively little pushback and accomplished on the same day—and asked that you do personal and professional favors in return.  The personal favor you reneged on when you left me stranded at the party I had asked you to escort me to—“

“I told you Jess—“

“And the professional favor, not only did you not follow through on it, but you filed a motion during her arraignment this morning to dismiss all charges based on improperly filed paperwork and allowed a mass murderer to walk.”

“I didn’t think it would work,” Cas muttered.

“Do I have all the facts straight?”

“I did go to the party with you and was your arm candy when your ex showed up.  You told me to get lost, so I got lost.  Jess had a panic attack and I had to take her home.  And you were hardly stranded; there are thousands of cabs in New York and dozens of car services.  As for the vote—one of the other junior partners deliberately set up the meeting for when Anna would be gone.  Without her it was a tie even with my vote.  Finnerman made the decision to represent her.  I can’t do anything about a decision Finnerman makes.  He showed up just for this meeting for a reason.  I think even if the vote had gone against representing her, he would have overruled us.  He had an agenda.  Look, Meg, I’m sorry about this but it’s out of my hands.”

“Then you never should have made a deal based on something you couldn’t control.”

“You’re right.  You’re right.  But, to be fair, you knew that wasn’t something that I had complete control over.”

“Fuck you, Castiel.”

Cas sighed and looked away.  “Fair enough.”

“Is it?  Would you consider fucking me to be fair compensation for screwing me so hard already?”

Cas raised his head.  “Meg…”

“Don’t ‘Meg’ me.”  She stood up from her chair and walked around the desk.  “I have to admit, Cas, you’re not much use to me on a professional level.  You might as well be useful on a personal one.”

“What?  Oh--!”

Cas started as Meg slid into his lap and grabbed his face.  He zigged one way to avoid her lips, and then zagged.

“Castiel.  You embarrassed me by ditching me at that party, and then you humiliated me in court today.  You are obligated to make me feel better.”

“But, Meg—wait!”

Cas struggled and pushed against the floor with his feet.  The chair tilted back to a dangerous angle and they froze, not even daring to breathe as they teetered.  Cas threw his head forward and his face landed in Meg’s cleavage, but it got the chair to tilt back down onto its legs.  He grabbed Meg by the arms and pushed her back.

“Meg!  Stop.  This won’t make you feel better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Meg got one arm loose and made a grab for his crotch.  Cas squeaked and turned his head so that Meg’s lips fell on his cheek.

“Please don’t!  I—uh—I’m dating someone!”

Meg stopped licking his neck and sat up in his lap.  “ _What_.”

“Yeah, firefighter.  Dean.  Dating for like, three months now.”

Meg sat back and looked at him with a suspicious glare.  “You’re making that up.”

Castiel raised his right hand.  “Swear.  Remember at the party you told me my hair looked so messed up it looked like I’d just had sex?”

Meg made a face that was a cross between disbelief and being impressed.  “You didn’t—“

“Totally fooled around in the bathroom with him.”

“Wait.  Was it that guy you were talking to at the bar?  Light brown hair and muscular build?”

Cas nodded.  “Yes.  Yes, that was him.  Firefighter.  Like I said.”

Meg pouted.  “Is it serious?”

“Serious enough that I don’t want to risk anything by apologizing to my friend with my penis.”

“Friend?  That’s a bold assumption.”

“Oh, come on, Meg…”

Meg stood up and straightened her skirt.  She walked around her desk and took a seat, facing the monitor of her computer and doing a fairly good job of ignoring his existence.

“Look, that kid who got released, I’ve been keeping track of him.  Nose is clean, grades are high.  Regardless of how I let you down, you saved his life, Meg.  And you can feel proud about that.”

After a long pause her eyes flicked to him.  “Are you still here?”

Cas sighed.  “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“You know your way out.”

“Yes, I do,” Cas said as he heaved himself out the chair.  He closed the door of Meg’s office behind him and walked through the busy DA’s office.  That actually had gone better than he thought it would.  If Meg was willing to accept sex as amends, then she must not be _that_ angry with him.  Cas shook his head as he got on the elevator and chuckled to himself, garnering a few wary looks from the other passengers.  He realized that basically everyone he knew thought he was dating a firefighter named Dean.  Maybe he should just date a firefighter named Dean.  If said fireman would still have him.

He stepped off the elevator in the lobby and almost immediately his cell phone started ringing.  The number wasn’t from one of his known contacts and he contemplated ignoring it; they would leave a message if it was important.  Then he decided to answer it in case it was a former client with a new number.

“Hello?”

“Cas?  Is that you?”

“Y-yes.  Who is this?”

“It’s Sam.”

“Sam…?”

“Winchester?”

“Oh!  Right.  Of course.  Sorry about that.”  Cas ducked down into a hallway where it was relatively quiet.  “What can I do for you?”

“I’m so sorry.  I should have called sooner, but I was freaking out and not thinking straight.”

“About what?”

“And Dean’s phone is still in his locker at the firehouse, and I didn’t have your number in mine, so I didn’t think to call you at first.”

As far as he knew Dean didn’t have his number either.  Why would Sam think that he did?

“I asked Alfie for your number, and I’m so sorry I should have called sooner.  You’ve probably been worried sick not being able to reach him or not knowing where he was.”

“Um.  Sam, I think there’s been some sort of mis—“

“He’s at New York Methodist Hospital on 6th St.”

“—standing.  What?  Wait, what?!  What’s going on?  Why is he in the hospital?”

“You saw that big apartment building fire in Park Slope on the news right?”

He hadn’t but thanks to Hester he knew what Sam was talking about.  “Yes, what about it?”

“Dean’s station was one of the two that made the initial run.  And—“

“He was there when the building collapsed?!”

His voice had gotten shrill and a couple of people down the hall looked up from their conversation at him.

“Yeah.  He fell about four stories and…”

Sam’s voice became an odd drone in his ear.  He had to lean against the wall as he became lightheaded and felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.  His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like a python was squeezing the life out of him.

“Is he alive?” he whispered when Sam paused for breath.

“What?  Yeah, Cas, he’s at the hospital.  He’s conscious.  You should come.”

“Thank God.  I’m on my way now.”

“Okay, but Ca—“

Cas hung up on him and dashed through the lobby and out the front doors.  He flagged down a taxi and pretended like he didn’t see the elderly couple smiling at him and trying to make eye contact.  They could get their own cab.  He slid into the backseat and told the driver where to go.

“Aw, man, Brooklyn?  I get off soon.”

“Just fucking go,” Cas snapped and pulled a couple of fifties out of his wallet.  He threw them through the partition and the driver shrugged.

“Okay.  Let’s go.”

The drive was long enough that he was able to calm down and start thinking rationally again.  Why was he freaking out?  He barely knew the guy.  They weren’t actually dating.  And according to Sam he was alive and talking to people, so he must be okay.  And what did he think would happen when he got there?  Dean would ask what he was doing there and Sam would be confused and he’d be mortified and he should probably tell the driver to turn around.  The only thing that stopped him was that he wanted to see that Dean was okay with own eyes.  And they were already more than halfway there anyway.  Might as well go, he reasoned with himself.

When he arrived at the hospital, he realized he didn’t know where to go.  Probably not the ER.  He’d been there for three days already so they would have moved him to a regular room.  Or intensive care.  Cas had a flash of panic as he imagined Dean in a dimly lit hospital room with tubes and wires coming out of every part of his body.  But then he remembered Sam had said he was conscious and focused on that.  He thought about Dean’s smile as he approached the nurse’s station on the first level.  His cocky smile, his blushing smile, his genuine smile.  Cas had a feeling there were still so many other smiles he hadn’t seen.  How close had he come to never discovering them?  Not just because of the building collapse, but because he had been stupid enough not to pursue his attraction to Dean.  The worst part was that it wasn’t just a physical attraction; Cas could ignore that.  But he was attracted to the man, the person who was inside the pretty trappings.  Hopefully Dean would be okay with the fact that Cas had been telling everyone he knew that they were dating.  It would save him a lot of trouble later.

At the nurse’s station, a pretty woman with dark brown eyes told him Dean’s room number and that there was only about an hour left of visiting hours.  Cas thought he probably wouldn’t even need the full hour.  Despite his epiphany that he didn’t want to leave Dean again without firm plans for their next date, he still had a feeling things were going to be a little awkward.

Dean had a private room on the third floor by the elevator.  Cas knocked on the partially open door and stuck his head in.  He didn’t see anyone else in the room; only Dean lying in the hospital bed with a single IV attached to his arm.  Cas sighed in relief.  It could have been much worse.  Well, he had raccoon eye bruises resulting from what was probably a broken nose, but only a small splint in bandages covered the bridge.  The rest of his face looked unmarred.  In fact, aside from a few cuts and bruises on his arms, he looked perfectly fine.  Perhaps the circumstances of his fall had been worse than the injuries themselves?

Dean’s head turned at the light knocking sound, and his eyes tracked well enough, if a little slowly, across the room until they landed on Cas.  He looked utterly confused.  He closed his eyes and rubbed the lids with his finger and thumb and then opened his eyes again.  Cas smiled at him.

“No, you’re not dreaming.  Though I know how hard it is to tell the difference when I’m around sometimes.”

“Cas?”

Cas moved a couple of careful steps into the room.   “Oh, good.  That would have been embarrassing if you didn’t remember me.”

“Kind of hard to forget the guy you banged in a public restroom.”

Cas chuckled, trying not to wince at how scraped and raw his voice sounded.  “I’m happy to know I’m the only one who fits that bill.”

“I—ugh.  I was going to make some joke about how do you know for sure, but that would be too much effort.”

Castiel retreated a couple of steps.  “Are you tired?  I can leave.”

“No.  No, no.  Don’t leave.  Why are you here anyway?  I mean.  How did you know to come?”

“Sam called me.”

Dean poked out his bottom lip as he thought and Cas knew he was screwed because he thought that just might be the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

“Not complaining, but why would Sam call you?”

“I think…” Cas took three steps into the room.  “I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“Oh.  Sorry.  I guess I should have told him.  He dragged you down here for nothing.”

“No,” Cas said, taking enough steps to put him at Dean’s bedside, but down by his feet.  “He just called and told me what had happened.  I wanted to come.”

“Oh.”  Dean looked down and then back up.  “So, it’s not a problem?”

“The dating thing?  Nah.  My entire office thinks I’m dating a firefighter named Dean.  So, one brother thinking it is nothing.”

Dean smiled.  “Your whole office?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Needed an alibi?” Dean said with a hint of his usual smirk.

“Something to brag about.”

Dean dropped his eyes, his expression warring between a humble smile and an insecure frown.

“Something to brag about?  And I’m the best you could come up with?”

“Yes.”

Dean looked up.  Their eyes met, locked, held.  This was unusual for them.  Usually their intensity was borne out of proximity and lust.  This was—something else altogether.  Of course, Cas shouldn’t be thinking anything was “usual” for them.  They’d known each other for a handful of hours.  Hardly enough time to know what would be their normal patterns.  Cas shifted his weight and all but slapped himself in the face to break eye contact.

“So, uh, where’s Sam?” Cas asked, looking at Dean’s clavicle where it peeked out from the collar of the pale green hospital gown.

“I think he went to check on Victor.”

Cas looked up again.  “Victor?  Fourteen hours of chores Victor?”

Dean made a sound that may have been a laugh.  “That’s the one.  He’s still up in the CCU, but he’s going to pull through.”

“I’m very glad to hear that.  I heard—there were casualties.”

Dean’s jaw flexed as he swallowed hard.  His eyes were downcast and what little mirth had been on his face melted away.

“Yeah.  Station 6, the house that made the initial call with us—they lost a guy.  And a family of four that got trapped on the ground level.  There were a couple dozen other injuries.  Including some moron and his cat.  It was mostly smoke inhalation.  A few burns and bumps.  But…it could have been a lot worse.”

Cas felt an odd pressure on his chest at those words.  He knew Dean was talking about the civilians, but all he could think about was Dean not making it out of that building alive.  He felt something against his fingertips—an odd sensation that was both soft and scratchy.  He looked down and saw that his fingers had, of their own accord, reached out and taken hold of the blanket covering Dean’s legs.  He let go and rubbed his hand on his pants to dispel the feeling, but took two more tentative steps forward.

“I’m glad you didn’t suffer anything worse.”

Dean raised his brows.  “You don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he said flatly.

Cas raised his eyes and tilted his head slightly.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, I guess you picked up on the broken nose.  And you can probably hear that I had some serious smoke inhalation.”

Cas’ hand twitched and he saw how close it was to where Dean’s hand rested palm up on the bed.  Dean’s finger twitched too, but Cas stopped himself from reaching out and taking his hand.  He wasn’t sure fake boyfriends were allowed that kind of intimacy.

“I’m also concussed pretty badly.  Though apparently not as bad your average football or hockey player.”

Cas smiled and inched forward.  The tips of his fingers brushed Dean’s.

“My spleen ruptured.  They had to remove it.  And they barely got me on the table in enough time to keep the damn thing from poisoning me to death.”

Cas took one more step closer and slid his hand into Dean’s, gripping it tightly.  He didn’t care if it was incongruous with their relationship.  He wanted to feel him and prove to himself that he was there and warm and living.  Dean must not have minded because he closed his hand around Cas’ in a grip weakened by his injuries.

“And oh yeah.  I almost forgot.  I can’t feel anything below my waist.”

Dean looked at where his free hand was picking at the cotton blanket.  Then he snapped his eyes up to Cas, waiting to see the man’s response.  Cas rubbed his thumb on the back of Dean’s hand.

“What’s the prognosis?”

“The prognosis?  Like, what happens when you can’t feel your damn legs?”  The words were harsh, but his tone was defeated.

“Do they say it’s permanent?”

“Well, they don’t really know,” Dean groused.  “They—how much TMI you want here, Cas?”

“Tell me everything.”

Dean’s brow creased for a moment as he looked at him, his eyes jumping around as he studied his face.  Then he shrugged and looked away.

“They took the catheter out—which is an _awesome_ procedure in case you’ve ever wondered—because I apparently can still sense when my bladder is full and can control the muscles necessary to keep from wetting the bed.  Though using a freaking bedpan is just fantastic when a pretty nurse has to help you sit on it to do your business.”

Cas bit his lip so he wouldn’t even give the hint of a smile.  He knew Dean would not appreciate that.

“But they say since I had no bladder control the first day, the fact that I do now and that the swelling is going down around my spine means there’s a ‘good chance,’” he used his free hand to make air quotes and kept his hold on Cas with the other, “that all sensation will return eventually.  Small comfort when I can’t move and everything is numb and I can’t even feel my junk.”

“You can’t…feel…that…even though you can control…um…”

“Different set of nerves apparently.”

Dean let go of Cas’ hand and he frowned at the loss, but Dean wasn’t withdrawing, only using both hands to pull up his hospital gown and push down on the blankets a little, exposing his navel and abdomen.

“Right about here.  It all goes blank.”

Cas reached forward before he could allow himself to think about it too much and therefore stop himself from doing so, and placed his fingers on the skin just above Dean’s bellybutton, carefully avoiding his stiches from the splenectomy.  His stomach twitched slightly in response.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yeah.  It’s a little ticklish.”

Cas raised an eyebrow.  Dean frowned at him.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Cas lowered his eyes and watched his fingers slide slowly down over Dean’s soft skin, past his bellybutton and onto the trail of fine hairs leading below the blanket.

“How about here?”

Dean nodded and swallowed.  “There’s fine.”

Cas moved on, his fingers dragging over Dean’s taut lower abdomen.  Dean’s breathing hitched.

“Do that again.  But push harder,” he said, his voice breathy with excitement.

Cas stroked the area again, pressing the pads of four fingers against the skin hard enough to make shallow indentations.

“I—I can feel that,” Dean said amazedly.

“Could you not before?”

Dean shook his head.  “Not this morning.  Maybe I am getting better.”

“I’m sure you are,” Cas murmured, mesmerized by the way his fingers rested against the edge of the blanket that barely covered Dean’s groin.

He wanted to move his hand lower, but that would be seriously inappropriate.  Not to mention it might depress Dean if he lost sensation further down.  He forced his eyes up and saw Dean looking at him with nervous resolve in his eyes.  He wanted him to keep going too—mostly to see if he could feel anything, partially because he wanted Cas’ hand wrapped around his cock if his slightly dilated pupils were any indication.  Cas knew he shouldn’t.  That it was sick to feel up an invalid in a hospital bed.  Dean’s fingers clenched the bed sheets in anticipation, and Cas figured exactly nothing about their relationship thus far had been appropriate.

Dean watched with rapt attention as Cas’ hand slid beneath the blanket.  He stroked his fingers down his flaccid length with a firm, steady pressure and then took him in hand.  Dean gasped and Cas looked up, almost letting go because he was afraid he had hurt him.  Dean was smiling and let out a raspy laugh.  He didn’t even look particularly aroused anymore.

“I feel that!” he said through clenched teeth, too stoked to even open his mouth.

Cas let go and moved his hand to his thigh, stroking the skin and running his knuckles up and down.  Dean let out a sharp puff of air and slumped back against the pillows.

“Can’t feel that.”

“No?”

“Well, up where it meets my hip there’s this weird sensation, but everything else is dead.”

“Not dead.  Just recovering.  That’s great, Dean.”

Cas removed his hand.  Dean lifted the covers and peeked under them.  A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Well, at least if I do stay paralyzed, I have the important parts working.”

Cas smiled.  “I like that you can always find the silver lining, Dean.”

He harrumphed at that notion.  “That’s Sammy, not me.  Hey, Cas, do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Dean shot him an amused look.  “Careful.  You don’t know what the favor is yet.”

“True, but there’s probably not much you could ask of me that I would say no to.”

Dean looked mildly surprised at that confession.

“Plus, I think I know what you want.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.  You want me to touch it.”

“Touch it?”

“Yes, touch it.  Again.  Just to make sure.”

Dean grinned.  “Will you?”

Cas fought a returning grin, but reached his hand under the blanket and wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock.  His eyebrows shot up.  “Oh, shit.”  Dean was not exactly flaccid anymore.

Dean nodded, still grinning.  “Oh, yeah.  Looks like you got the magic curative touch.”

Cas laughed and stroked his thumb over the base.  “I can’t believe you’re asking me to touch your boner while you’re lying in a hospital bed.”

Dean shrugged.  “I’ve heard sex is excellent therapy because of all the happy endorphins it releases.”

“From where, the Internet?”  Cas' hand moved up and down and Dean hardened in his grasp.  “Orgasm causes the body to tense and lock up like it’s lifting heavy weights.  Your blood pressure goes up.  Your breathing shallows.  That can’t be good for someone recovering from catastrophic injuries.”

Dean dropped his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes.  “And you know what won’t be good for _you_?”

“What?”

“If you fucking stop.”

Cas let out what was meant to be a laugh but was mostly just a breathy gasp as he felt his own groin tingle.  He pulled gently on Dean’s shaft, and then ran his hand up to swipe his thumb over the head.  Dean must really by recovering as he was not only fully hard, but producing pre-come.

“A little harder, Cas,” Dean said in a strained voice.

“No,” he replied calmly, keeping up the gentle rhythm.

The buildup was slow and every time he saw Dean’s body tensing he would back off a little bit and let him relax.  Dean raised his arms and ran his fingers through his hair, grabbing handfuls to give himself something else to feel.

“Fuck.  I can’t spread my legs.”

“It’s okay,” Cas soothed him gently.

He moved his hand toward Dean’s cockhead and rubbed his thumb mercilessly over the glans as his index finger fondled the slit.  Dean bit his lip and managed to arch his back just slightly.  And then Cas felt Dean coming into the palm of his hand.  He used his thumb to stroke as much of the shaft as he could.  It probably wasn’t as satisfying as jacking him through the orgasm, but he wanted to catch as much semen in his hand as possible so as not to leave a mess on the hospital sheets.

“Shh, shh,” Cas whispered as Dean wheezed around a moan.  “It’s okay.  Breathe for me, Dean.”

Dean inhaled slowly through his nose and then released it even slower through his mouth, doing his best to forestall a coughing fit.  He was mostly successful as his coughing was gentle and didn’t aggravate his lungs further.  Then he went totally lax on the bed, going boneless with his satiation.  His face suddenly scrunched up into what looked like pain, and Cas became alarmed and stepped closer to the head of the bed.

“Dean, are you—?”

Dean raised an arm and covered his eyes.  He sobbed very softly.

“Thank you, Cas,” he rasped.  Cas had to lean forward to hear him.  “I was so worried I was broken.  Fuck.  I still might be.”

“Dean, your body doesn’t dictate who you are.”

“Yeah?  Tell me that when you can’t walk.”

“Dean…”

“Cas!”

Cas spun around, his heart hammering in his chest and that squirmy feeling of guilt in his gut.  He dropped his right hand to his side and tried to discreetly keep it cupped by his leg.

“Sam.  Hi.”

“Hey, good to see you again.  I’m glad you made it.”

Sam stuck out his hand and Cas stared at it.  He looked up at Sam who looked a little confused as to why he wouldn’t shake his hand.

“Um.  I.  Thank you for calling me and telling me about Dean.”

“Sure.”  Sam dropped his hand, looking a little hurt.  His eyes flicked to where Cas awkwardly held his hand partway behind his body.  Then he looked up to his face which he was certain was bright red if the heat radiating from him was any indication.  Then Sam looked at his brother who was flushed and blushing and still had the blanket pushed down and the hospital gown pulled up.  Sam was a smart kid.  He could put one and one and one together.

“Oh my God!”

“I’m so sorry!” Cas said, though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.  He darted across the room to the bathroom and quickly washed his hands.

“Dean!  I can’t believe you!”

“Me?” Dean coughed.  “He’s the one who molested a hospital patient.”

“At your request no doubt!”

Cas dropped his head in supreme embarrassment.  He didn’t want to go back out there.

"Dude, I feel like you're missing the bigger picture here."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"I can feel it."

There was a pause and Cas wondered if Sam's expression was one of confusion or ecstatic joy.  The loud shouting that followed helped C"as fill in the blank.

"Oh my God!  Dude!  You can feel your legs?!"

"Well, no, not my legs.  But.  I can feel below my waist and down to my junk now which I couldn't yesterday.  Or hell, this morning."

"You're getting better," Sam said, a tremor in his voice.

"Oh come on, don't be a big girl and cry about it."

"I'm going to go find a doctor."

"Sam, that's not necessary."

"No, I think it's important.  They should know.  Plus, Cas probably won't come out of that bathroom until I leave the room anyway."

Cas hit his forehead with his palm.  Hard.

"I'll be back in like five."

Sam's sneakers squeaked on the tile floor as he turned and ran into the hallway.  Cas looked up and saw his reflection giving him a chastising look in the mirror.

"Sam left," Dean called out.

Cas inhaled deeply, and then walked back into the room.  Dean had pulled his gown down and the blanket up.  If they could both manage not to blush when someone entered the room, they might just look like two guys who actually had a sense of modesty and decorum.  And then Dean smirked at him.  Cas laughed softly and approached the bed.

"So," Dean said, running the edge of the blanket through his fingers.  "Does this count as our third date?"

Cas chuckled and brushed a hand back through his hair to try to hide his blush.  "Normally at this point I would tell whoever I was dating that I don't abide by the third date rule and sex is still off the table."

Dean grinned and gave him a nod and smug wink.  "Guess that means I'm special."

"Shut up," Cas mumbled, blushing harder.

"Or I guess this means after our third sexual act, we should actually go on a date."

Cas looked over at Dean hesitantly, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"It's a little late for 'shy,' isn't it, Cas?"

Cas raised his head and made full eye contact.

"I suppose once you've had a man's penis in your mouth it does seem a little pointless to be shy around him."

Dean smiled.  "So, what do you say after I get out of this place, I take you to that Yankees game?"

Cas grimaced.  "How about the Mets?"

"Dude.  Like the Mets are going to make it into postseason."

Cas made a face at him.  "Bite me."

"I have every intention to do just that at some point in the future, but as far as the date goes, how about we compromise.  Rangers.  Home opener."

"How are you going to swing those tickets?"

"Season ticket holder."

"Really?  I guess a full time Rangers fan and a part time Yankees whore is acceptable."

"You're lucky I can't get out of this bed," Dean growled.

Cas smiled and Dean smiled back.  And then both of their smiles faded as they thought about why Dean couldn't get out of bed.  Cas stepped closer and reached out with his hand.  Dean looked at it for a second, glanced around Cas to make sure they were alone in the room together, and then he took Cas' hand.

"So, when I tell people I'm dating a firefighter from Brooklyn named Dean, am I telling the truth?"

"We'll see," Dean said noncommittally.

"Big talk coming from a raccoon."

Dean scowled and gingerly patted his nose.  "Are you really making fun of a hero who was hospitalized saving lives?"

Cas' lips parted on a silent squawk of dismay.  "I didn't—”

"Dude," Dean cut him off.  "I'm joking.  You need to learn to relax."

"I make my living exploiting people's carelessness.  I really should know better."

"Oh, Cassie baby, talk legalese to me."

"The use of the nickname Cassie for the party in the first by the party in the second is unauthorized and is likely to cause confusion, mistaken identities, or to deceive uninitiated new party members and may be a violation of the party in the first's socially protected rights.  Accordingly, the party in the first demands that the party in the second cease and desist from the use, either verbal or written, of the heretofore mentioned nickname, Cassie, and that the party in the second cease all current and future use of the nickname, or anything else confusingly similar thereto."

Dean blinked.  "Holy shit.  That was actually really hot."

"I'm glad you're alive, Dean."

"Uh.  Yeah, Cas.  I do what I can."  Dean rubbed the back of his head.

"But, I should probably go now so you can get some rest.  Please be good and obey your physical therapist.  You strike me as the type who won't."

"Hey."

"I'm looking forward to our date, but, um...would you mind if I...I mean, can I come...see you again?"

Dean smiled.  "You better.  You're part of my PT regimen."

Cas felt a little heat across his cheeks, but he was getting better at taking Dean's teasing in stride.

"Can I come tomorrow?"

Dean nodded.  "Bring me some real food, okay?  This low sodium, no taste hospital crap is killing me."

"I'll see what I can do.  Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, Cas."

~~~

Castiel laughed so hard he leaned back and almost fell off the hospital bed.  He righted himself with help from Dean's hand grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him forward.  He could feel his nose crinkling and that his gums were exposed as he laughed.  He hated when he laughed that hard because he knew it wasn't very flattering, but Dean was still looking at him with a happy smile and a gentle look in his eyes.

"I'm serious," Dean said.  "There's Sam, five years old, eyes red from crying, snot running from his nose, Batman cape hanging off his shoulder--but he has the biggest grin on his face when we get to the ER because he was able to pretend that he was flying while he rode on the handlebars of my bike.  The nurses had never seen a kid so happy to have a broken arm."

Cas shook his head and turned his hand over so that Dean's hand slipped from his wrist to his palm.  Their fingers laced together.

"I can't tell if you're the best brother in the world or the worst."

"It all depends on what time of the month you ask Sam."

Cas rolled his eyes.  "You know, there are some men out there who view being compared to a woman as a compliment, not an insult."

Dean reached into the Styrofoam container on the bed tray to grab a handful of fries.  He stuffed them into his mouth and said, "I's naht an infult.  I's ust a hatemehnt ov fat."

"I have no idea what you said, but this pervasive myth that women are the weaker sex is ridiculous.  It's scientific fact that women can withstand more pain than a man."

"Oh, bullshit," Dean said after swallowing and take a swig of his soda.

"It makes evolutionary sense."

"How so?"

"Labor and childbirth.  No man could deal with that kind of pain.  Trust me.  I dated a guy once who claimed he couldn't bottom because it hurt too much."

"Pussy."

"I know, right?"

Dean and Cas smiled at each other, and then looked away from each other and definitely not toward where their hands were joined, fingers gently twisting and playing together.  They sat in silence for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward.  They hadn't had any trouble finding topics of conversation, which was odd since they had so little in common.  Or at least it seemed that way on the surface.  They did find that their different life experiences still resulted in similar emotional experiences.  Not that Dean would describe it like that, Cas was sure.

He'd spent the latter part of visiting hours of the past four days sitting on Dean's hospital bed, and even though most would consider the two of them still barely acquaintances, Cas felt like he knew Dean well enough to know that he didn't really appreciate the gooier side of interpersonal feelings.  Though from what Cas had learned of him and his relationship with his brother, he was certain Dean was more in touch with his feelings and his feminine side than even he knew.  It caused an actual warm, fuzzy feeling in Cas when he listened to Dean talk about Sam with pride and a fair amount of irritation.

"So," Dean said, pulling his hand from Cas' and leaning back against the pillows propped up on the raised upper portion of his bed.  "Are we ready for our spot check tonight?"

Cas glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that visiting hours were almost over.  The time had gone by too fast.  He realized Dean must be feeling pretty tired to have pulled away.  Usually it was Cas who had to pull away when it was time to leave.  He knew Dean was frustrated that even as he healed and regained feeling and movement in his lower extremities, he was getting weaker from lying in bed and doing nothing for a week.

Every night before he left, Cas would run his hands down Dean's legs, checking to see if he was gaining any more sensation or could move any part of his leg.  He'd gained full feeling and movement in his hips, but his legs had remained stubbornly numb and unresponsive.  The previous night Dean had said he thought he could feel something on his left shin, and Cas had smiled and told him that was great.  He failed to mention that he'd been touching his right leg at the time.  He'd also refused to give Dean anymore hand jobs.  He had some standards after all.  Though Dean had a mouth on him that was difficult to ignore.  He usually left the hospital hiding half a boner and his cheeks and ears burning with aroused embarrassment as he remembered the things Dean had promised to do to and for him if he would give the old fire hose a little tug.

Dean looked too tired to even verbally spar with him tonight, the dark circles under his eyes no longer caused by bruising from his broken nose but by a severe lack of sleep.  He really wished Dean could go home and get some real rest in his own bed.  He'd entertained the fantasy of taking him home to his apartment on Manhattan, but he knew that wasn't really a feasible option.  Besides, Dean might actually get _less_ sleep if he stayed with him.

"Why are you smirking?" Dean asked as he suspiciously crossed his arms over his stomach.

Cas shook himself out of his daydream.  "Hmm?  Oh, nothing.  Okay, let's see how you're doing tonight."

Cas turned a little more on the bed and reached out to pull the blanket and sheet down.  Then he noticed the bottom of the blankets had become untucked from the end of the bed.  He wondered how that had happened.  No matter how it had, he saw Dean's toes poking out and he couldn't resist the idea of tickling someone's foot and not getting kicked in the face.  He pulled the blanket up to his ankle.

"Ready?" he asked.

Before Dean could nod or speak, Cas zipped the tip of his index finger right up the sole of Dean's foot.  He was promptly kicked off the bed as Dean shouted and his leg spasmed.

"The fuck, man?" Dean griped.  "That's not even the good kind of tickling.  Total dick move."

Cas got to his knees and popped his head up over the edge of the bed.  He grabbed Dean's foot.

"Dean!  Shut up.  You kicked me off the bed!"

"You deserved it!"

"No.  _Dean_.  You moved your leg."

Dean drew breath, probably to yell at him again, but then paused.  He looked down at his legs, and then at Cas who was getting to his feet.

"I—I did that, right?  You didn't just fall off?"

"Fall off?  You kicked me.  Hard."  Cas rubbed the tender spot to the side of his belly and squeezed Dean's foot.  "Can you feel my hand?"

Dean's brow furrowed with intense concentration as he looked at his feet.  He shook his head looking extremely aggravated.

"No.  Well, yes—like I think I can feel something.  But.  I can't move my leg.  I'm trying."

"Focus on just your toes."  Cas moved his hand so that his fingers were tapping the underside of Dean's toes.  "Wiggle your toes."

Dean's face scrunched with anger and frustration at his impotent exertion.

"Come on.  Wiggle your piggies for me."

"Cas, I swear to God I will murder you when I can walk again."

"That's fine.  Come on."  Cas tapped his toes again.  "Come on, little piggies."

Dean let out a small, irritated growl and Cas smiled.  Then Dean's big toe twitched.  They both froze and stared at Dean's toes.  A couple of tense moments passed, and then his toe moved again.  Dean shouted and put his arms straight up in the air like he'd just scored a goal.

"Toes are moving!"

Cas started laughing, and he didn't know why, and he couldn't stop.  Dean joined him and they laughed manically over one monumental toe wiggle.  Their laughing tapered eventually and Cas moved to the head of the bed.  Dean grinned up at him, letting him know he was cool with him moving even closer.  Cas took Dean's face in his hands and stroked his thumbs over his cheekbones.

"Don't make it sappy," Dean muttered.

Cas leaned down and kissed Dean.  It was a simple kiss, easy and enjoyable.  Cas pulled back a bit so he could kiss Dean's upper lip, and then his lower.  Then Dean slid his hand around the back of Cas' head and pulled him closer, taking the initiative to deepen the kiss.  Dean's tongue teased the underside of Cas' upper lip.  Cas was sorely tempted to let Dean in, to return those light, pleasurable touches with his own tongue, but he remembered that not moments before Dean had been too tired to continue sitting upright.  He pulled back and smiled at Dean's disapproving whine.

"That's all you get until you're up and walking again."

"What?!  Come on.  That could still be days away."

"I know."  Cas gave him a quick kiss and then stepped completely away, letting go of his face.  "You need a goal and you need some rest."

"I'm fine."

"Well, a nurse is going to come in here and kick me out in a few minutes anyway.  No need for her to come in and see anything that might scar her for life."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I meant to mention it earlier but I got distracted.  I won't be able to come again for a few days.  I've been cutting out on work the past few days and it's finally caught up with me.  I've got a pile of paperwork to take care of and a proposal to prepare for why I can't represent one of our clients.  It's a huge mess and I have to deal with it now.  But, I'm happy to know you've come so far in your recovery.  I actually wonder if you'll be out of the hospital before I can see you again."

"I hope so because I hope I can go home tomorrow."

"Well, don't push it if you're not ready."

"Dude, I've been here for a week already.  I'm ready to sleep in my own bed again.  And take a real shower."

Cas chewed on his lower lip but didn't say anything.  Dean huffed and settled back into his pillows.

"I know, I know.  Toe wiggling and vague sensation doesn't mean my legs are working again.  But I can get them going again.  Easily."

"I really do ask that you listen to your physical therapist.  They will know the best way to get your legs to heal."

Dean gave him a bland look.

"I mean it, Dean."  Cas stepped forward and squeezed Dean's thigh.  "The more you obey instructions the faster you'll heal and the stronger you'll get."

"I'm telling you, Cas, don't worry about that.  I've got a definite deadline of when I have to be better.  October 8th is the Rangers home opener.  I have a little over a month to be able to walk so we can go on our date."

Cas smiled softly and moved his hand to take a hold of Dean's.  "That's your goal?" he asked.

"Well, that, and after the game I'm going to need my legs to be strong enough to ride you like a bronco."

Cas laughed-gasped at Dean's brazen declaration.

"Or strong enough to drill you right through the mattress.  Whichever you prefer."

Cas laughed and shook his head.  "Neither, Dean.  This is our third sexual act rule date.  It's just a date.  No sex."

Dean quirked an eyebrow.  "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"No sex."

"No sex.  Still interested?"

Dean looked Cas over and then down at where their hands were still joined.  He squeezed Cas' hand and kept his eyes down as he said, "Yeah, Cas, I'm definitely still interested."

"I'm glad to hear it."  Cas leaned forward and kissed his very warm cheek.  "I'll call you tomorrow.  Don't forget to ask the nurse to plug in your phone tonight."

"Yeah, yeah."

Cas picked up his suit jacket and tie from the visitor chair that he had sat in exactly once in the past four days, opting instead to sit on the bed with Dean.  He turned to smile at Dean and give him a wave goodbye as he left.

"Hey," Dean said.  "Just to make sure in case shit happens.  October 8th, home opener for the Rangers.  Game starts at seven, so let's meet outside the Garden at 5:30 to grab some dinner."

"Five-thirty at the Garden, October 8th.  I wouldn't miss it."

Dean smiled and nodded.  Then he looked down at his feet.  He concentrated and wiggled his toe again.

"See?  I'll definitely be there."

"I've no doubt."

They looked at each other for a long moment.  A moment that probably would have lasted longer if a nurse hadn't cleared her throat to make them aware of her presence.  Who knew how long she had been there waiting for them to acknowledge her existence.  Cas smiled at her and cast one more look back at Dean.  Had he known it would be over a month before he saw him again, he would have let his gaze linger.


	5. The Date

Castiel added boobs to his stick figure drawing and tried to ignore both Josie Sands' imperious voice and Uriel's leg as it pressed against his.  He especially tried not to think about that fact that his and Uriel's chairs had started out at least a couple of feet apart and now they were thigh to thigh.  It certainly hadn't been his doing and he had no idea why Uriel would be trying to force intimacy between them.  Not now anyway.  Four years after their relationship had ended and during a meeting with a client-slash-psychopath.

Cas was just confused in general why Uriel was doing anything these days.  He’d decided to first chair Josie Sands’ case himself.  He’d decided not to find a work around for the latest set of charges brought against her.  He was pushing for the grand jury to meet as soon as possible.  Cas could only assume there wasn’t enough evidence for an indictment and he wanted to have it on record that the NYPD was “harassing” an innocent, private citizen with false charges.  It would make it harder to investigate her in the future.

Most of all, Castiel had no idea why Uriel was fighting so hard to keep Josie Sands out of prison.  So far The Finnerman Firm had done a phenomenal job at beating the system and making a lot of money while doing it, so they didn't need _her_ money.  On top of all that Castiel had to deal with Uriel spending more time in his office and asking him to stay late and leaning over his desk to put their faces close together and brushing against him in the hallways and elevators.  At least he understood that part: Uriel wanted sex.  He just didn’t understand why Uriel had picked him.  Nostalgia?  It didn’t matter because Cas wasn’t interested in rekindling anything; he was happy with Dean.

Or he would be happy if he ever saw him.  The only interaction they’d had since Cas had last seen him in the hospital had been a few phone calls and some texting.  Even then the communication was sparse.  This case was taking up all his time and Dean was focused on his recovery so they had an unspoken agreement not to push for more frequent contact.  In person meetings hadn’t even come up, though Cas found himself longing to see the green of Dean’s eyes at the most inopportune times.  He’d completely missed an inappropriate question made by the prosecution in court, but fortunately the new attorney who was working minor cases with him to get experience had caught it and objected.  Hannah had asked him if he was okay and he’d done his best to will his embarrassed flush and thoughts of Dean away.  He also had a bruise on his arm from running into a doorjamb while thinking about Dean.

It made him feel squirmy, but in a good way, when he thought about the fact that it wasn’t just the physical attraction that kept him distracted.  Dean had texted him a few random facts about himself at Cas’ request.  Cas had developed a dreamy sense of admiration for the man who could talk about the finer points of piecrusts and hated broccoli and disliked anything that could be labeled as “sappy” and yet had rescued a litter of kittens from a burning warehouse and gave them modified CPR to save their lives.  He had made a point to show how they hadn’t affected him at all because he wasn’t even tempted to adopt one, and Cas had let him have his macho moment because he clearly had forgotten that he’d already told Cas that he was allergic to cats.

Cas scribbled pretend notes on his pad and sighed softly.  He wanted this meeting to be over.  Today was the day.  Their official date was happening tonight and Cas was finally going to see Dean in person again.  There was nothing Uriel could do to make him stay late tonight short of firing him.  And well, if he did fire him, he’d definitely be free tonight.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t get all the charges dropped.”

Cas looked up as Josie’s sharp tone cut through his thoughts.  The woman sat across the table, her red hair coifed in a vintage French twist and her perfectly manicured, bright red nails strummed the tabletop.  Her body was strung tightly between in control and not.  Her face had an unpleasant smile on it and Cas looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“It’s ridiculous that I have to do this for every single little thing.  This is a waste of my time.  Shouldn’t all the charges be linked or something?”

“A lot of them came from different jurisdictions,” Uriel said.  “It’s not impossible, but it’s harder.  It’s also better if they stay separate because even if the evidence is all circumstantial, multiple charges piled up tend to make juries lean toward thinking the defendant is guilty.”

“I thought this wasn’t even going to make it to trial.”

“It won’t.  I was talking about the grand jury.  We just need to avoid an indictment on the terrorism charge.”

“And what if we don’t?  Why did you even let it get this far?  I do not have time for this.  You think I want to be trapped in my apartment with an ankle monitor?  Do you really think this is acceptable?  I hired you to keep me away from legal troubles and I’m still swamped in them.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have planted a bomb in a senator’s office,” Cas muttered.

Uriel nudged him sharply under the table and Cas sat up straight, realizing what he’d just said.  Josie’s hard blue eyes were fixed on him.

“ _Allegedly_ ,” she said acidly.

“Yes, allegedly,” Cas said, lacing his fingers together on the table.  “Ms. Sands, you needn’t worry about any of these charges.  We’ve ensured that anything that might have been problem will never see the inside of a courthouse."  He actually didn't know that for sure, but Uriel didn't pinch him again, so he kept going.  "The reason we’re letting this charge get to the grand jury is because there is no way they will be able to indict you.  They have zero evidence.  Once you’re cleared of erroneous charges by the legal system, it will lend credibility to the fact that the other charges were dropped.  Your public image will be sympathetic and the police will be hesitant to go after you so hard in the future.  That ankle monitor will be gone before the month is out.”

“It had better,” Josie replied, “or The Finnerman Firm will be on my list of things that don't make me happy.”

Castiel didn’t take the threat lightly.  He knew of three companies that had been on Abaddon the Destroyer’s shit list and their headquarters were all in rubble.  Uriel put his hands out on the table in a placating manner.

“Trust us, Ms. Sands.  You’re in good hands.”

“I had better be for how much I’m paying you.”

“How much you’ve promised to pay us,” Uriel said.  “It’s possible the process might be expedited if we had a cleared check.”

Josie and Uriel eyed each other.  Cas tried to keep his expression neutral.  There actually wasn’t anything they could do to move up the court dates, but Josie probably didn’t know that.  Josie’s eyes snapped to Cas and he just barely refrained from flinching.

“May I use your paper and pen, please?”

Cas nodded and made certain to tear off the top page which aside from the big-boobed stick figure had nothing but badly formed stanzas comparing Dean’s eyes to spring mornings and tropical seas before giving it to her.  She scribbled down a name and an address and a number.

“Go here and tell this woman you’d like a cashier’s check for this number made out to The Finnerman Firm.  No explanations needed; only people who have the proper authority get her name.  I assume that will be sufficient to get this ball not only rolling, but smashing everything in its path.”

“Absolutely,” Uriel said with a smile.

Josie gave them a false smile in return and stood up.  Two men in suits and black sunglasses who had been sitting in chairs against the wall stood immediately.  Castiel and Uriel got to their feet as well.  They all shook hands and the men in suits escorted Josie out of the conference room.  Cas put a hand on Uriel’s arm to keep him from leaving the room.

“You do know that there’s nothing we can do to expedite this, right?” Cas asked.

“Technically no.  But I received word today that Josie’s case was pushed up to the day after tomorrow’s docket and will be before the grand jury in two days instead of two weeks.”

Cas smiled and shook his head.  “Always have an ace up your sleeve, don’t you?”

“There’s a reason I’m the boss around here.”

Cas inhaled slightly as he realized Uriel had him backed up against a wall.  He dropped his eyes.

“Yes, you’re very good at what you do.  Since this matter is taken care of, I’m going to focus on other cases.”

“Absolutely not.  We’ve got to be prepared for what happens after the grand jury.  I’m certain you’re right about there being no indictment, but shit happens and we need to be prepared.  I’m going to need you to—“

“Uriel, you said you wanted to first chair this.  If you’re preparing any further motions you need to submit them yourself.  You can get one of the paralegals to draft it, but I’m not a paralegal.  It’s not my job to write your motions even though I’ve been doing that for the last month.  I’ve worked late every night, I’ve been here on weekends, and tonight I am leaving on time.”

“That’s not how this job works, Castiel.  You work the hours whether they're convenient or life draining.”

“Not tonight.”

“Castiel—”

“I mean it.  You’ll have to fire me.”

Uriel gave him a look.  “Is this still about taking on this case?  Look, she was going to get off either way.  The prosecution has no case.  Why shouldn’t we take her money?”

“Because there were some things that she wouldn’t have been able to wiggle out of if we hadn’t gotten her off on paperwork technicalities.  We are keeping a violent terrorist out of jail.  Doesn’t that bother you?”

Uriel shrugged.  “She’s never hurt anyone, just property.  And besides, I can’t be responsible for every human being on the planet.”

“Jesus, Uriel.”

“Don’t give me that judgmental bullshit, Cas.  You made your first million getting a man off who had killed his wife and kids so he could marry someone younger and prettier and not have to pay alimony or child support.”

“That was—”

“What?  No different.”

“Maybe not.  But maybe now I’ve decided I want to be better than that.”

“You’re already covered in mud, Cas.  Just pretend you’re at the spa.”

Cas pursed his lips, but then let them part in surprise when Uriel put his hand on his jaw.  His thumb played over his lower lip.

“And when I say you need to work late tonight, I’m not saying it has to be all work.”

Uriel started to lean forward and Cas turned his head.  He pushed gently on Uriel’s chest and the man took a couple of steps back.

“The reason I’m not staying late tonight is because I have a date.”

“Blow them off,” Uriel scoffed.

“It’s not like that.  It’s not just some random date.  It’s my boyfriend.  The firefighter?  I told you about him, remember?”

“You can’t be serious about that.”

“Apparently I am.”

“It won’t last.”

“Well, if that’s true then you should have no qualms about waiting.”

Uriel stepped right into his space again, their noses touching, breath falling hotly over the other’s lips.

“I’ve worked hard to put myself in a position that doesn’t require me to wait for anything, Castiel.”

Cas steeled his nerves and met his eyes.  “Then this must be an odd feeling for you.”

For a moment Cas had no idea how Uriel was going to respond to that.  He was partly expecting to be punched, partly expecting to be kissed, partly expecting to be laughed at, and in no small part expecting Uriel to morph into some humongous all-powerful beast.  Then the man stepped back.

“Alright.  Fine.  Date your blue collar novelty.  Eat at bad restaurants and see how the other half lives.  Toss the sheets around a little bit.  He'll probably be good for it.  And then when you both realize it just won't happen because your worlds are too different...I promise I won't rub it in your face.  Too much."

"That's very big of you," Castiel said caustically.

Uriel's smile was closer to a sneer than anything else.  "Go ahead and take tonight off.  But you will be in this office first thing tomorrow morning working on contingency plans in case Friday blows up in our faces."

Cas had a retort about how it was solely Uriel's fault that any blowback from taking Josie Sands case would hit the firm and all its employees, but he didn't want to make him any angrier.  Not when he did technically have his permission to take the night off.  Uriel stood where he was, one hand in his pocket, eyes trained on Cas' face.  Cas gave him a nod, acknowledging his agreement to be at the office in the morning, and slid away from the wall to walk by him.  Uriel gave his ass a light smack as he passed him.  He shot a dirty look over his shoulder, but the man had already turned his back and was gathering his papers from the conference table.

Cas lightly rolled his eyes and felt a smile tugging at his lips.  Sometimes it was hard to remember that Uriel's bark was a hundred times worse than his bite, especially when his bark could make grown men wet their pants.  The farther he walked away from the conference room though, the less he thought about anything work related and the more he focused on seeing his _boyfriend_.  Cas grinned as the word floated through his head.  He'd dated Uriel for six months and Inias for a year and he'd never considered either of them a boyfriend.  Not really anyway, not the way he liked taking ownership of Dean.

Cas didn't bother to shut the door to his office as he just popped inside quickly to shut down his computer and lock up his files.  A knock at the door got his attention as he was slipping on his suit coat.  He saw Hannah standing in the frame.  He smiled at her.

"Hannah.  I'm on my way out for the afternoon, but can I help with you with something?  Something that could be accomplished in the next fifteen seconds?"

"A signature?"

"Yep, I can do that."

Hannah walked into the room and put a document on his desk.  Normally he would read through every word of any document he put his name on, but he recognized it as a motion he had drafted himself rather than passing off to a paralegal.

"No changes were made, right?"

"No, sir.  These are just the copies.  After you sign them, we'll get them notarized and filed."

Castiel signed and initialed each copy and then tossed his pen on the desk.  He started to usher Hannah out the door and she laughed lightly as she barely managed to get her documents back in her file before she was in the hallway.

"What's up?  Got a hot date?" she asked with a smile.

"So hot," Cas said in a voice embarrassingly close to a sigh.

"Oh."  Hannah looked a little surprised.  "I was totally joking.  But that's great.  It's good to know it's possible to have a personal life with this job."

Castiel chuckled humorlessly.  "Well, I don't know about a personal _life_ , but there are definitely moments that you have to grab onto and not let go."

"I'll try to remember that."

"Try to get out here before eight, okay?"

Hannah nodded and Cas gave her a smile before heading for the elevators.  He saw one of the paralegals trying to flag him down and he deliberately put his head down as he all but threw himself onto the elevator car.  He looked up at the ceiling of the car as the poor paralegal tried to wave for his attention.  He almost got to him before the doors shut, but not quite.  Cas sighed in relief and enjoyed his forty story ride down to freedom.  For the night anyway.  But he would take it.

Outside the late afternoon was a little warm, but not unpleasant.  He glanced at his watch: it was almost five o'clock.  He definitely didn't have time to go home and change clothes, and more than likely he was going to be late meeting Dean.  Last night Dean had sent him a text to verify that the date was still on and told him to meet him at an Irish pub near the Garden.

In between four and five was the worst time of day to try to catch a cab as the day and night shifts were changing over.  Fortunately he was able to catch a "going my way" cab--one that had both his available and off duty signs lit up--who was going his way.  He got dropped off at 8th and West 31st and felt his heart rate begin to escalate quickly as he got closer to the pub.  He was excited and nervous and happy and worried and he was certain that if he didn't calm down he was going to get lightheaded and pass right out on a New York City sidewalk.

Inside the pub he was greeted by a hostess and after telling her he was meeting someone, he scanned the room for Dean.  He was over ten minutes late, so he was pretty sure Dean would have arrived before him.  The place was crowded with the pre-game crowd on top of the heavy traffic the area usually saw on any given day, but as soon as he saw the brownish spiky hair toward the middle back of the room he knew him.

Cas approached slowly, enjoying seeing Dean looking healthy and bruise and bandage free.  His blue T-shirt was loose-fitting, but did nothing to hide the width of his shoulders or the cut of his waist.  His fingers strummed on a laminated menu and he took a sip of a dark beer from a pint glass.  Cas cast his eyes around the table, looking for a wheelchair or crutches or cane or anything to indicate that Dean was having any trouble with his legs.  He was sitting down, his legs very still, and Cas couldn't help but feel a little niggling worry in the pit of his stomach.

Then Dean looked up and spotted him.  He smiled and Cas smiled back.  Just before Cas could apologize for being late, Dean stood up and took a step forward.  Cas inhaled sharply as he saw Dean's legs, looking fantastic in a very nice fitting pair of jeans, move and support him.

"Well," Dean said, looking Cas over in his designer suit, "looks like I'm either really underdressed or you're—”

In a burst of joy, Cas threw his arms around Dean's shoulders and hugged him tightly.  The man was forced to take a step back to keep his balance and then awkwardly patted Cas' back with one hand.

"Uh, hey, Cas.  How ya doin?"

Cas could tell Dean was looking around the room to see if anybody was staring at them.  He couldn't care less though and allowed himself another couple of seconds of feeling Dean's strong body in his arms and breathing in his deliciously masculine scent.  He pulled back and almost laughed as Dean tried to play off the whole scene as some dude, ie: Cas, just being a big weirdo that he had nothing to do with.  He rubbed Dean's arm affectionately and then took a step back to a more socially acceptable proximity.

"Sorry, Dean.  I'm just so happy to see you on your feet."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck.  "Well, yeah, but I told you my legs were working again."

"Yes, but this is the first time I _seen_ you.  Do you have Skype?"

"Probably not since I don't know what that is."

"It's a program that lets you video chat on your computer."

"Oh, really?  Like, you could use it on a laptop?"

"Yep."

"A laptop you can take in your bedroom?"  Dean made a quick double raise of his eyebrows and gave him a leer.

Cas gave him a mild look and then turned away to pull out a chair as a way to hide his growing blush.  Even if it hadn't already been obvious what Dean was getting at, they had had phone sex a few times and Skype sex would just be the natural progression.  Cas had been nervous the first time they'd tried it, but Dean's tongue was wicked in more ways than one and after one steamy thirty minute session Cas had been hooked.  Why Dean was perfectly fine with describing in vivid detail how he would like to rim Castiel until he was coming from Dean's tongue in his ass alone, but choked on an attempt to tell Cas that he had pretty eyes was a complete mystery.

Dean sat down, but flinched and hesitated just before he made contact with the seat.  Cas sat forward with alarm as Dean eased into the chair.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

Dean waved a dismissive hand.  "Fine, fine.  My back is still just a little tweaked.  I went completely off the pain meds over a week ago; I didn't want to risk a dependency, you know?  But that means I'm feeling a lot more of the healing process."

"Well, we can postpone—”

"No way!  I mean, we're already here.  Plus, it's really not a big deal.  That just caught off me guard.  I think because I haven't had any pain at all the past couple of days I've started not being quite as careful with my movement.  But I promise you, Cas, I'm fully functional and have almost my entire repertoire of moves at my disposal."

Dean gave him a suggestive wink and Cas raised a hand to signal the waiter to come over as he gave Dean a placating smile.

"That's nice to know.  But remember, this is just a date.  No sex.  So, we needn't worry about you straining anything tonight."

Dean sighed.  "I'd hoped you'd forgotten about that."

Cas smiled and shook his head.  "What do you have, a Guinness?"

Dean nodded and Cas asked for the same from the waiter.  They looked over the menu and when the waiter returned with Cas' beer they ordered.  Cas decided to give the lamb stew a try and Dean really branched out and ordered a cheeseburger.  Dinner was extremely pleasant as the food was good and the conversation flowed easily.  They didn't even argue over the bill because Dean caught the waiter and paid him when he made a trip to the bathroom.  Cas had been equal parts annoyed and impressed by his sneakiness.

In retaliation he jumped in after Dean ordered beers and a snack inside the venue and paid for it himself.  He also bought Dean a big foam number one finger and a small teddy bear wearing a Rangers jersey.  Dean had scowled furiously and told Cas that from then on he could pay for all the dinners he wanted.  Cas had just laughed and been kind enough not to point out that he'd seen Dean stuff the little bear in his pocket for safe keeping.

Cas' company's box seats were definitely better than Dean's season tickets, but Cas enjoyed sitting in the stands with the crowd and feeling the excitement in the arena.  It was especially exciting when the Rangers scored and the lights and sirens went off and everyone jumped to their feet screaming and high fiving each other.  It was a good game full of a lot of action and a couple of amusing fights.  The Rangers won two to one and Cas didn't even mind the slow walk down the stairs with thousands of his closest friends after the game because Dean kept a hand at the small of his back and kept him from being jostled the whole way down.  Really, Cas should have been protecting Dean's back, but being the protector was just in the firefighter's nature.

They stood on the corner of the busy sidewalk for over an hour, talking about the game, themselves, at times nothing of consequence.  Cas kept stalling and trying to keep Dean from hailing a cab because he wanted to spend more time with him.  Then Dean told him that even if he wasn't getting sex tonight, he was getting a kiss goodnight after he dropped him off at home.  It seemed ridiculous for Dean to ride in a cab with him all the way uptown just to have to take a cab back downtown to get to Brooklyn, but Cas couldn't turn down the prospect of a goodnight kiss.

They sat on opposite sides of the backseat of the cab, holding an innocuous conversation about the third grade class that had visited the fire station two days ago that Dean had been forced to entertain since he wasn't cleared for active duty yet, but their eyes were roaming where their hands didn't dare to go and said a thousand unspoken words of desire and longing.  The doorman on duty at Cas' building was a new one who had only been working for a couple of weeks, so he was grateful he didn't have to give him more than a nod as he escorted Dean inside.  The elevator ride to the sixth floor was long, but also too short.  Soon they were standing outside Cas' door and he was wondering why he'd ever suggested this date be sex free.  Just to prove they liked each other and it wasn't just about the sex?  What was wrong with a relationship being about sex?

"So, I had a good time tonight," Dean said in a tone that mocked every single rom-com ever made.

Cas laughed.  "So did I," he replied, though he was a little more sincere.

Dean stepped forward, put a hand on his waist, and kissed him.  Cas slid his hands over the weathered leather of Dean's jacket and circled his neck with his arms.  He kissed him back, but it was barely open-mouthed.  They allowed the kiss to last several minutes, savoring the easy, already familiar glide of their lips together.  Their hands stayed still and their tongues only made tiny, fleeting cameos.  Finally, reluctantly, Cas pulled back.

"Thank you for the fun evening out," he said softly.  "We should do this again sometime."

"I agree."

Cas leaned forward and pressed one last kiss to Dean's lips and then got out his keys.  He opened his door and looked back over his shoulder as he stepped inside.  Dean stood in the hallway with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Cas shut the door, and then leaned against it.  He felt silly as he sighed and smiled like a love struck teenager, but that was how he felt: like he was experiencing the innocent excitement of a first love.  And well, maybe Dean was his first love.


	6. The Not a Date

Cas straightened and stepped away from the door.  He started when he heard the knock.  He knew it had to be Dean, so he didn't bother to check the peephole and opened the door.  Dean stood just as he left him, hands still in pockets.

"Did you forget something?" Cas asked.

"No.  Uh, I just wanted to check that our date was over."

Cas tilted his head.  "Um, yes?"

"So, this," he said waving a finger between them, "is not a date."

Still confused, Cas said, "No?"

"Good."

Dean stepped forward and grabbed Cas' lapels.  They stumbled into the apartment, kissing wildly and hands groping.  The door got shut with a carefully placed foot and Dean's and Cas' jackets hit the floor at the same time.  The thought that he shouldn’t leave his expensive suit jacket on the floor in a wrinkled mess was easily shrugged off as he realized the pants and dress shirt were going to be spending the night on the floor too.  They were only halfway to the bedroom and Dean had already gotten his shirt unbuttoned and was working on his belt buckle.  They stopped kissing just long enough to get Cas’ tie over his head and Dean’s shirt off.  Then Cas’ dress shirt was shoved off his shoulders as their lips crashed back together.  They bumped into a wall and used the impromptu stop to shimmy out of pants.  They laughed as they hopped and stumbled on pants caught around shoes, being more of a hindrance as they tried to help each other out of the tangle.

Once free, Cas guided them a little to the left to keep Dean from dragging them into his office rather than his bedroom.  The back of Cas’ thighs hit the mattress, but rather than falling onto it, Dean steadied him and pulled him close, lips taming his in a calmer kiss.  Their hands roamed over the smooth, bare expanse of each other’s backs, their groins pressed together—erections contained only by the thin cotton of boxer briefs nudging alongside the other with barely suppressed need.  Castiel was eager to sleep with Dean, to really have actual sex with him for the first time, but this…this…Cas sighed softly as Dean’s tongue swept into his mouth, teasing him, testing him, filling him.  He remembered thinking so that first night—but Dean was really such an amazing kisser.  He’d managed to soothe the desperate need that had been burning through them, calmed them so that they could go slow, take their time exploring each other’s bodies and prolong the pleasure.

Cas rested his hands on the swell of Dean’s ass and felt lost in the sensation of being kissed by Dean Winchester.  He probably could have stood there all night doing just that, but then Dean pulled back and whispered against his lips, “Lie down, baby.”

Cas nuzzled Dean’s nose a moment, seeking his lips, but then Dean chuckled and lightly pushed on his shoulders.  Cas sat down, looking up at Dean with what he knew was an unhealthy amount of awe, and then slid back.  He stretched out on the bed and felt his heart flutter in a wild panic as Dean crawled up the bed over him.  He nearly lost his breath with Dean kissed him again, and then did when he felt Dean’s weight settle on him.  He turned his head to the side so he could gasp in a breath and Dean decided kissing his neck was also acceptable.  Cas’ eyes opened and he stared at his ceiling, his cheeks burning hot with arousal and for some reason a little embarrassment as he felt Dean rub his erection between his thighs.  Their clothed cocks bumped together and then Dean braced himself with hands on either side of Cas’ body.  He moved his hips in a sinuous glide, driving his hard length against Castiel’s, his balls catching every time he pushed back down.

Cas thought that he might be feebly raising his hips to meet Dean’s, but he was so overwhelmed he just focused on a small crack in the ceiling, Dean’s panting in his ear, and tried to calculate his billable hours for the Gallagher case because he was three seconds away from shooting his load into his underwear.  Dean moved a hand to grasp Cas’ bicep and ground his hips down harder.  Cas sucked in a sharp breath.

“Y’alright?” Dean gasped shallowly.

Cas tried to respond and was forced to swallow twice before he could manage, “Un.”

Dean huffed out a laugh and stopped moving.  Cas closed his eyes and exhaled in relief.  He allowed himself to breathe deeply, trying not to feel how dangerously close he was dancing on the edge of orgasm.  After several moments, his eyes snapped open, remembering there was not only someone else in the room, but that that person was on top of him.  Grinning like a cocky son of a bitch.

“You’re pretty sensitive, huh?” Dean teased.  “Come so easy.”

“I do not—“ Cas cut off in a broken groan as Dean rocked his hips.  “Only you,” he said weakly.  “You make me feel so good.”  Cas was mortified as soon as the confession left his lips.  Dean’s response did not help matters.

“I’m flattered,” he smirked.

Dean sat up, keeping his knees on either side of Cas’ body, but preventing their groins from making contact.

“Hey, Cas.”

“What?” Cas tried to be grumpy but it came out breathy and needy.

“You never let me reciprocate from that first night.”

“Pretty sure you dry humped me to orgasm against a wall,” Cas said flatly.  He put his hands above his head and let his eyes rove over Dean’s body.

“Yeah, but I said I wanted to suck you off.  Didn’t get to do that.”

Cas waggled the fingers of one hand.  “Go ahead.  I hope you brought a book with you because I’ll be done quickly and it’ll take awhile to get going again.”

Dean laughed.  “I don’t know if you’re trying to imply you’re old or infirm, but either way just because you’ve come doesn’t mean I have to stop having fun.”

Cas thought about that.  He wondered what it would be like for Dean to fuck him from behind while his soft member flapped underneath him.  Not a particularly aesthetically pleasing thought, but he wondered if it would still feel good, if he would still feel like he was building toward an orgasm.  With Dean, he probably would.  He gave the man a thumbs up.

“Have at it.”

Dean laughed again and leaned down to kiss him.  “This doesn’t have to be completely one sided, you know.”

He scooted back and slipped his fingers inside Castiel’s underwear, pulling them down quickly and roughly.  Cas yelped and Dean grinned.  He moved down his legs and removed the garment, tossing it over his shoulder.  Then he stood up on the bed—a precarious maneuver not only because Cas’ bed was soft and didn’t really make for solid footing, but because the tips of Dean’s hair were only an inch or two from the ceiling.  He stepped out of his own underwear and threw them aside.  Cas quickly reached down and gripped the base of his dick because just seeing Dean’s beautiful, cut cock again sent a surge of lust through him.  He wanted to taste it again.  Maybe coming easily would be a good thing because he could get it out of the way and get his face buried in Dean’s lap.  Then Cas saw the real genius that was Dean Winchester.

The man took a couple of steps forward before kneeling beside him.  Then he grabbed Cas by his hip and pulled him partway onto his side.  He lay down and began laving at Cas’ shaft while angling his hips toward Cas’ face.  Cas pulled Dean’s leg so it was hooked over his shoulder and swallowed Dean halfway down.  They both moaned, but the sounds were muffled by the dicks in their mouths, which only made it hotter.

Cas did his best to concentrate.  He really did.  He focused on the nice heft of Dean’s cock in his hand and in his mouth.  He took his time licking the length to feel the velvety texture on his tongue.  He ran his tongue around the head, feeling the grooves and ridges.  He laved just under the head repeatedly, smiling as Dean’s thigh quivered over his ear.  He sucked on just the tip, tonguing the slit and swallowing every blurt of precome that fell onto his tongue.  He tried so hard to make it good for Dean, but he kept drowning in the hedonistic ecstasy radiating from his groin.  Dean’s mouth and tongue did everything to him that he was doing to Dean, only he did it better.  The only reason he hadn’t come yet was because Dean had a firm grip on the base of his dick and a thumb pressed into his perineum to prevent him from coming.  And he had come damn close a couple of times already.  He wondered if this would be considered edging.  If it was he both loved and hated it.

Cas’ mouth fell open and he panted out soft, whining gasps as Dean suckled his cockhead and massaged his balls with the fingers of the hand that had the thumb pressed to his perineum.  He realized he was falling down on his job, but he had to turn his head and bite the duvet to keep from screaming and promising Dean that he’d quit his job and become his full time sex slave if he would just let him come down his throat.  But that was definitely something he couldn’t do because they hadn’t even discussed that.  He’d been reckless the first time he’d gone down on Dean without a condom—but they were just plain being idiots for not using them now.  Not that Cas was about to stop him so they could have a discussion about safe sex.  No wonder STDs were still so prevalent even though they were so preventable.

Those thoughts enabled Cas to pull back from the edge enough that he could focus on Dean again.  He licked Dean’s dick like a popsicle and figured the only way he could keep up with Dean was to advance his game.  He quickly sucked on two of his fingers, getting them wet, and then slid them between Dean’s ass cheeks.  He was slightly exposed due to having his leg slung over Cas’ shoulders and his fingers easily found their mark.  Cas was pleased when Dean’s pleasure-filled noise of surprise vibrated up his cock and made him lose his rhythm.  Cas rubbed his fingers back and forth over the puckered hole at the same speed that he bobbed his head on Dean’s cock.  Dean suddenly smacked his ass and grabbed on to a cheek for dear life as he groaned, “ _Fuck, yes_ sssssss.”

Dean’s hand moved between Cas’ legs and returned the favor as he pulled one of Cas’ balls into his mouth.  Cas squirmed and tried not to think about how obscenely he knew his hole was clenching.  He wanted Dean to put something—anything—in him.

“You can do it, Cas, go ahead,” Dean said, completely breathless.

Cas wasn’t entirely sure what he meant but he was guessing he was referring to putting his fingers inside him and not just rubbing his sensitive entrance.  He considered just using saliva, but there was a perfectly good bottle of lube in the nightstand.  He sighed as he looked at the thousand mile stretch between his hand and the nightstand.  Sometimes having a king sized bed was a distinct disadvantage.  He really didn’t need the lube to finger Dean, but he supposed he might as well get it since Dean would need it to open him up for the glorious fucking he knew he would get before the night was over.

“Mn, hang on a sec.”

“What?  Why?” Dean demanded petulantly as he pulled back on Cas' legs when he tried to wriggle across the bed.

“Just hang on!” Cas scolded and scooted over enough to reach into his nightstand.  He got the lube and then went back for the box of condoms.  He tore one off the string and then tossed it onto the middle of the bed.  He moved back into position and then poured a generous amount of lube into his palm.

“That’s not any of that flavored shit, is it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, it’s wasabi flavored, is that a problem?”

Cas raised his head to look at Dean as he tossed him the bottle.  His jaw was hanging open and Cas kept up his blank look.  Dean picked up the bottle and read the label declaring it to be a simple water-based lubricant.

“What a little shit.  Who makes jokes like that in bed.”

“Just shut up and eat me out, will you?”

Dean made a face at him, but then immediately dipped his head back between Cas’ legs.  He shifted farther down his body so that he could get his mouth to Cas’ entrance.  Cas tensed and let out a shout when Dean started kissing his hole, licking around the rim, and pushing the tip of his tongue past the barrier.  He hadn’t actually meant to say “eat me out” because he didn’t think Dean would go for it.  But apparently Dean’s dirty talk about enjoying rimming wasn’t just a mental fantasy.  Cas spread his legs and let out a litany of curses as Dean truly took the phrase “eating someone out” to heart.  Then he felt a drizzle of lube and a finger joined in.

“Shit,” Cas whispered into the sheets as Dean finger fucked him.  He was going to need Dean’s hand back on the base of his dick really soon or he was going to come—untouched—with nothing but a tongue and finger in his ass.  He needed a distraction.

Since Dean had moved down to get closer to his ass, Cas couldn’t reach Dean with his lips or tongue, so he quickly worked the lube over three fingers and slid one into his hole.  Dean made a slapping grab for his ass again in appreciation, and his moan—hot and vibrating between his legs—made Cas feel that deep throbbing pleasure that was so close to orgasm but not.  Cas rested his head on the bed and just breathed deeply as he barely managed to keep his finger moving in and out of Dean.

“Another,” Dean growled as he scissored two fingers inside of Cas.  “I’m not some delicate virgin twink.”

Cas chuckled at his disgruntled tone.  That was definitely a personal issue coming up because he remembered that picture of young Dean and his brother in front of that ugly black car.  He had been the prettiest little twink to ever troll the Village.  But in the interest of keeping things moving in the right direction, Cas worked a second finger in followed swiftly by a third, though carefully because Dean’s bluster aside, tonight was supposed to be about making each other feel good.  He bent his head and managed to get the head of Dean’s cock back in his mouth.

After a few sucks, Dean slid back down so that more of his cock could fit in Cas’ mouth.  Then he swallowed Cas down again and added a third finger.  It had been a very long time since Cas had sixty-nined with someone and it hadn’t even come close to being this good.  Maybe because it had been with a woman and she hadn’t known how amenable he was to being finger fucked.  It was barely a couple of minutes before they were both squirming and writhing in too much pleasure to keep any sort of rhythm with their hands or keep the other’s cock in their mouths.

“C-Cas,” Dean panted.

“Yeah?”

“While this is awesome, how about we cut to the chase?”

“Yes.  Yes, I—“ Cas’ lust fogged brain couldn’t think of anything clever.  “Yes.”

They carefully and quickly unwound themselves and sat up.  Dean grabbed the condom from where it was about to fall over the side of the bed and tore open the packet.  Cas positioned himself on his back.  He knew it would be easiest if he were on his hands and knees, but he wanted to watch Dean.  Dean grinned at him as he moved closer.

“Want me to ride you?” he said as he started to roll the condom on Cas’ cock.

Cas sat up and grabbed his wrist.  “Wait.  Aren’t you fucking me?”

“What?  No.  Why do you think I told you to go ahead and prep me?”

“I thought you were prepping me.”

“I was just eating you out and figured a finger or two wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh.”

It was an odd feeling to be disappointed by the prospect of burying himself balls deep in Dean, but Cas had really been looking forward to getting fucked into the mattress.

“You’re not one of those bottoms only, are you?” Dean asked.

“God, no.  You?”

“Absolutely not.  I just thought that that’s where this was headed.”

“Well, that’s fine.”  Cas smiled.  “I’d be more than happy to fuck you.  Get me suited up,” he said indicating the condom.

“Well, I don’t mind either.  Gotta say, going for the hattrick with your ass tonight—tongue, fingers, and cock—would be my pleasure.”

Cas nodded his head.  “That is an admirable goal.”

Dean attempted to tuck the top part of the condom back up so he could easily put it on himself.

“I have other ones.”

“Nah.  It’s fine.  You know, we can suck each other’s dicks; it’s a shame we can’t fuck each other at the same time too.”

“Well…”

Dean stopped messing with the condom and looked up.  “What do you mean ‘well?’  If you’re about to tell me your dick can grow out like a tentacle…please don’t.”

Cas let out a huff of laughter.  “No tentacles.  Just…a double ended dildo.”

Dean sat back on his haunches.  “I’ve never used one of those before.”

“I have.  They can be fun.”

“And you have one?”

Cas flushed with a little embarrassment.  “Yes,” he mumbled.

“And I assume it’s been used before?”

“Yeah, but I bleach it when I’m done with it.  And you can put a condom on it."

Cas could see Dean’s brain working furiously as he considered all the possibilities and ramifications of using a toy that was a little outside the normal play box.  He chewed on his lower lip as he looked down at Cas.

“Does it really feel good or is it just awkward?”

Cas shrugged one shoulder.  “Depends on the operators.”

Dean frowned.  “How many people have you done this with?”

Cas looked down, feeling a little ashamed, which was weird.  He’d never considered himself promiscuous or been ashamed of enjoying himself in bed, but for some reason he wished he was a virgin for Dean.  Which was just asinine.  He looked up and met Dean’s eyes.

“Two men.  And one woman.”

“At the same time?!”

Cas laughed.  “No.  Three different relationships.”

Dean tilted his head.  “With a woman?”

Cas nodded.  “She was the one who introduced it to me.”

Dean shrugged nonchalantly.  “Alright.  Let’s do this.  No sense wasting two perfectly good prepped assholes.”

Cas smiled and rolled off the bed.  He trotted over to the closet awkwardly holding his erection.  He had to dig around in the back before he found the case and blew off a layer of dust.  He coughed and came out to find Dean lying on the bed, one hand behind his head, the other pulling lazily at his cock.  Cas shivered as he looked at him.  God he really wanted to sit down on that cock and fuck himself senseless, but from the way Dean’s eyes were trained on his groin and the way he kept licking his lips, he probably was thinking the same thing about him.  The double ended dildo seemed like the best compromise.

Cas opened the box and set it on the floor after taking out the dildo.  He felt a tingling rush of desire at seeing it again.  He really did like the thing despite the fact that it was Day-Glo orange.  Dean lifted his eyebrows when he saw it, but refrained from commenting.  Cas moved onto the bed and pushed Dean’s legs apart as he crawled between them.  Dean propped himself up on his elbows.

“So.  How does this thing work?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.  It’s pretty simple though.  Insert into slot and fuck.  Basically.”

“You get that out of the instruction manual?” Dean asked wryly.

Cas smiled as he lubed up one end of the dildo.  “Believe it or not it did come with instructions on the packaging.”

“I believe it.  Lawsuits are crazy nowadays.  Lawyers can be such assholes.”

Cas gave him a playful scowl.  “You want to use a condom?”

Dean worried his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, and then shook his head.  Cas lubed up the other end and moved even closer.

“Hand me the pillows.”

Dean reached behind him and pulled the two pillows out from underneath the ones decorated with shams; those he tossed onto the floor.  He lifted his hips when Cas moved to slide one under his butt, giving him just a little elevation.  Cas used his fingers to probe Dean’s entrance, testing to make sure it was still stretched enough to take the girth of the dildo.  Two fingers went in easily, so he slipped in the third and worked them gently inside Dean until he found his prostate.  He massaged it gently and Dean’s body tensed slightly and shifted a little, but he mostly held still.

“You know, most double ended dildos are longer than this.  You don’t really get an in/out motion with them, so you basically are relying on them being long enough to keep you filled and rubbing your prostate the whole time.”

“Unh-huh,” Dean said, eyes glazed over.  Cas wasn’t sure if he was really listening, but continued to move his hand anyway.

“This one is only thirteen inches, so we’ll both get a little less than six inches, but the reason I prefer this kind is because it will require us to be right up against each other.  Almost like we’re scissoring.”

“Fantastic,” Dean said, his hole clenching around Cas’ fingers.  “You’re turning me into a lesbian.”

“Not quite.  Your ass will still be filled.”  Cas removed his fingers and put one end of the dildo against his hole and pushed lightly.  Dean’s eyes flew open.  “Quite full, actually.”

Cas continued to push and Dean scrunched up a little, gasping as the thick dildo slid in.

“Jesus fuck that’s huge, Cas.”

“Are you okay?  Need me to stop?”

Dean bit his lip and shook his head.  “Keep going.”

Cas pushed the toy in a half inch at a time, mouth watering at the sight of Dean’s hole stretching and swallowing.  Once the center base was flush against his ass, Cas leaned forward and kissed Dean’s lips.

“Now comes the tricky part,” he said.

He maneuvered himself between Dean’s legs and put the second pillow under his butt so he would be the same height as Dean.  Then he tested his own hole with a couple of fingers before moving right on to the dildo.  He carefully crab walked toward Dean, taking the dildo in inch by inch.  When he finally felt the base, he relaxed back onto the bed and adjusted his legs so that one was over one of Dean’s and one was under.  He rolled his hips and was happy that his own soft moan didn’t cover up the startled “Oh!” from Dean.  He moved again and saw Dean’s hands clench the duvet.

“Feel good?”

“Y-yeah.  Um.  Wow.  What can I do?”

"Fuck yourself on it.  Fuck it into me.”

Dean pushed down with his hips and they both hissed slightly at the discomfort.

“Rolling motions,” Cas said.

“Right.”

Dean made a couple of figure eights with his hips and Cas determined that the lesson was over because goddamn was Dean a fast leaner.  Cas pushed back against him and they both moaned and moved faster, and then slower.  They vacillated between a slow and fast rhythm, their thighs brushing together, asses occasionally slapping together.  Cas put a hand on his dick and pulled on it gently, loving the feeling of Dean’s heat between his legs best of all.

“That’s it, baby,” Cas moaned softly.  “Just like that.  Fuck me, Dean.”

Dean raised his knee and used the purchase of his foot on the mattress to pull himself a little closer and the dildo pushed harder and farther into him as their groins came together.  Cas put one hand in his hair and pulled.  He was probably getting the full six inches they were so close.  That had never happened before.  And Dean’s hips were rolling and grinding and Cas felt every inch of the fake cock inside of him as it constantly stimulated his prostate.

“Oh, fuck.  Oh, fuck, Dean.  God that’s it.  Please, please…keep going.  More, baby.”

Dean’s movements became harder and Cas bit back a shout as he felt like he actually was getting fucked by the real thing.  He reached a hand down, feeling blindly for the base that was almost pushing into both of them.  He found the switch and hoped the batteries weren’t too old.

The dildo buzzed to life and Dean, who had been mostly silent aside from some labored breathing and soft grunts, screamed and bucked his hips.  Cas cried out as Dean’s hips jerked erratically.  His hand was on his dick, but it wasn’t moving.  He didn’t even need to.  He let out small, whining sounds of need as he got closer and closer, and Dean let out a noise that sounded like a sob and his name.  Cas gritted his teeth and felt his body tense at the same time Dean’s did.  They both let out loud groans and arched their backs off the bed, their hips lifting and grinding even closer together.  The orgasm rolled over Cas again and again and he felt warm come falling on his cock and balls and thighs and he had no idea if it was his or Dean’s.  They fell back onto the bed with desperate whimpers as the vibrating made them become over-stimulated and filled with that excruciating pleasure that is so good but almost unbearable.

Cas groped again at the base and after a couple of wild swipes found the switch.  The dildo turned off and their bodies finally relaxed.  They exhaled in unison.  A few moments passed as they breathed deeply and felt the tingling aftermath of their orgasms.  Cas swallowed thickly, his mouth having gone dry.

“So.  What did you think?”

When he didn’t get a verbal response he turned his head slightly to peer around their entwined legs and saw Dean giving a thumbs up.  Cas chuckled and let his head loll back on the mattress.

“Yeah.  Me too.”

Cas allowed himself to lie on the bed for several minutes, enjoying the flush of dissipating endorphins in his system, liking the quiet intimacy of their still entwined bodies.  Then he realized he was falling asleep and forced himself to sit up.  Dean looked like he was asleep.  Cas chuckled and carefully worked himself off the dildo.  Then he rubbed Dean’s leg until he made a snorting noise of wakefulness and turned his head.

“Mm, what?”

“I’m going to take the dildo out.  Stay relaxed, okay?”

Dean nodded.  “Not a problem,” he murmured.

Cas slid the toy out, grimacing when he saw Dean wince slightly.  Then he gingerly scooted off the bed and walked slowly to the bathroom.  Maybe he should invest in a slightly thinner double ended dildo; it really did stretch him out just a little too much.  Or maybe it had just been too long since he’d had a big cock in his ass.  Inias was pretty average, but Uriel had lived up to the stereotype of a black man.  Dean wasn’t much smaller than him, so he probably should get used to being stretched wide again.

He washed the dildo with soap and water and left it on the vanity to bleach later.  Then he took a damp washcloth and wiped down his thighs and groin.  Dean was definitely asleep when Cas came back into the bedroom.  He woke again as Cas cleaned him off.  He mumbled a thank you and then turned on his side.  Cas moved the pillows back to the head of the bed and flipped them over to the other side; he couldn’t be bothered with changing the pillowcases.  He put the washcloth in the bathroom sink and then set his alarm clock on the nightstand.  He put a hand on his hip as he looked at Dean who had grabbed onto a pillow with both arms.

“Dean.  Dean.  Dean!”

“Nn.  What.”

“Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Big,” he mumbled, lifting up an arm and relinquishing the pillow.

Cas slid into bed and pressed his back to Dean’s front as he tucked a pillow up under his head.  Dean let his raised arm fall over him and wrap around his waist, and then wriggled forward until his head was on Cas’ pillow.  Cas raised a hand to turn off the lamp, realized he couldn’t quite reach it, and decided not to worry about it.  He ran his hand down Dean’s arm and stroked Dean’s wrist with his thumb over and over.  He was lulled quickly to sleep by Dean’s deep, peaceful breathing.  Castiel could actually feel the smile on his face as he fell asleep.


	7. The Want Ads

Cas woke before his alarm went off.  It was kind of hard not to with a hot mouth on his neck, a thick erection pressed against his ass, and a hand slowly jacking his cock to life.  He stretched slightly and arched his back so his ass pushed more firmly against Dean.  The man caught his earlobe between his teeth for a moment and Cas moaned softly.

“You awake?” Dean asked.

“Awake enough,” Cas replied.

Dean let go of his cock and smoothed that hand over his leg until he caught the underside of Cas’ knee.  He pulled his leg up and shimmied down a little so he could start pushing his erection up toward Cas’ hole.  It slipped on his perineum, and then slid between his ass cheeks, and then the head caught on the rim.  Cas gasped and Dean hummed against the back of his neck.

“There we go,” Dean murmured.  “You still wet for me?”

Cas groaned and felt his cock pulse out a bit of precome.  Dean pushed forward with his hips, applying steadily building pressure against his hole until he suddenly popped inside and Cas let out a wild noise and lifted his leg higher involuntarily.  Dean held him in the new position and pushed inside him fairly quickly, not leaving much time for him to feel the burn of dry skin on his slightly lubed insides.  Cas’ eyes flew open in a panic as Dean bottomed out.

“Dean, did you put on—”

Cas cut off as Dean moved his hips.  He clenched the bed sheets and let out a soft grunt each time Dean’s hips snapped against his ass, burying his dick deep inside him.  Dean hooked his elbow under Cas’ knee and held him splayed open wide.  Cas squirmed against the building sensations and Dean bit down on his shoulder, stilling his movements.

“Ow, shit.  Fuck.  Dean.  Don’t—oh fuck—so deep, you’re so fucking deep.  Dean, please, _please_ …”

Dean somehow understood his pleas and fucked him harder.  He actually had to slow down a bit to do it, but he was plowing into his ass so hard, each almost painful jolt translated into an explosion of pleasure in his groin.

“Just a little more, just a little…shiiiiiiiiit!” Cas screamed as he came untouched, Dean continuing to pound his ass through it.

Dean moved his arm so he could grab Cas’ arm, pulling his legs even farther apart by his hooked knee.  He used the leverage to increase his speed and Cas was lust-drunk on the sounds of their flesh smacking together obscenely.  Then all of sudden Dean stopped.

“What’s wrong—?” Cas started, but Dean pulled out quickly and came all over his back.  He felt Dean’s body spasm a few times, and the man fell heavily against him, breathing hard.  Cas was finally able to put his leg down and he lifted a hand to get his fingertips on Dean’s hair.  He gave up after a couple of pats and let his arm fall to his side.

“Fuck.  I’m so sorry, Cas.”

Cas’ brow creased in confusion and he turned partway even though he still couldn’t see Dean’s face.

“Why?”

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“Oh.”  Cas lay back down.  “Yeah.  At least you pulled out.”

“I’m clean.  Just so you know.  We get tested regularly for work.”

“It’s okay.  I uh, wish I could give you such a definitive declaration as well, but I haven’ t been tested for awhile.  My last boyfriend and I did get tested, and we were exclusive, but I haven’t bothered since we broke up.”

“Have you slept with anyone since you broke up?”

Cas chuckled humorlessly.  “Just him.  We knew that dating didn’t work very well for us, but we don’t like having sex with strangers.  So, we just had sex with each other.  We called it quits on that arrangement about three months before I met you.  And we hadn’t even had sex for two or three months before that.  That’s probably why I jumped you in your apartment that night.”

“No, you jumped me because I seduced you.”

Cas snorted.  “Yeah, okay.”

“I totally did.  I lured you away from the party.  I lured you back to my apartment.  I got you slightly tipsy and your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, didn’t I?”

“Please.  Your attempt at seduction was about as subtle as a bat to the head.  And it didn’t work if you recall.  I went down on you because I could see the bulge in your jeans and I was curious if you were hard or just that big.”

Dean pulled back so he could get Cas to roll onto his back.  He looked down at him, and then self-consciously brushed Cas’ hair back from his forehead.

“Don’t even care who did what.  Just happy we did.”

Cas smiled.  “Me too.”  He raised a hand to cup the back of Dean’s neck and brought him down for a kiss.  Then his alarm screeched to life and startled them apart.

“What the hell is that?’ Dean grumbled as Cas rolled away from him to silence his alarm.

“My alarm,” Cas sighed and flopped back onto the mattress, rubbing his forehead with a hand.

“Yeah, I got that.  Why did you set it?”

“I have to go to work.”

Dean sat up enough to look over Cas’ body.  “It’s five in the morning.  What time do you need to be there?”

Cas yawned.  “Six.  At the latest.”

“Christ.  Why?”

“Because I told my boss I’d be in early since I took off early yesterday to meet you.”

“Well, don’t I feel special.”

Cas rolled over to look at him and smiled.  “You should.  I threatened to quit if he didn’t let me go.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.  “Really?”

“Yeah, actually, kinda.”  Cas dropped his eyes and huffed out a quiet laugh.  “Kind of wish I had quit though.”

Dean was quiet, so Cas raised his eyes to see his expression.  He was chewing gently on the corner of his lip and his brows were creased in confusion.

“Not to oversimplify the situation,” Dean started, “by why don’t you just quit?  I mean, you said you hated your job, right?  Or at least you acknowledged that you keep bad people out of jail and you don’t like it.”

Cas picked at the sheets and frowned.  “I try not to think about it like that.”

“Then how do you think about it?”

“Preserving the Constitution.”

Dean couldn’t quite hide his scoff.

“I mean it,” Castiel said softly.  “When I started as a DA, I didn’t mind finding the technicalities that got people off because it was usually the result of the police trying to subvert the system or ignore the rule of law entirely to make their lives easier.  Our legal system was designed to protect the defendant for a reason: so that people in authority can’t abuse their power and have to do their jobs to prove a person guilty beyond reasonable doubt.”

“I understand that, but a lot of these loopholes and technicalities that DAs find are often honest mistakes.”

“Not as many as you think.  Most are deliberate.  But at the same time, a lot of the loopholes are not in the spirit of the law.  And sometimes you do have to weigh what is more important: letting a guilty man go free, or allowing the police to break the system so much that innocents fall through the cracks.  Which is worse to you?  An innocent man jailed for life, or a guilty one set free?”

Dean rubbed the back of his head.  “Yeah, that’s kind of hard.”

“I have to finish this case though.  One more and then legally I won’t be tied to the firm anymore.  I think.  I have to check my contract.”

Dean bobbed his head and patted his arm awkwardly.  “Well.  Do what you think is best for you.”

Cas stared at him a moment.  And then he laughed and rolled over enough to push Dean onto his back and lie partially on top of him.

“What the hell was that?  A pep talk?” Cas said around his laughter.

“Hey!  It was good advice.”

Cas laughed and put his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and wrapped his arms around him as best he could.  Dean hugged him back and rubbed his hands over his back, making soothing circles that got larger and swept lower with each iteration.  Then he pulled his hand back and made a noise.

“Ick.  Your back has my jizz all over it.”

“Surprising.  I figured most of it would be on my clean sheets by now.”

“Ah, most probably is.  But, hey, clean sheets are made to get dirty.”

Cas lifted his head and grinned down at him.  “God, I wish I had time to fuck you again.”

“You mean for the first time.  You technically haven’t had me.”

Cas crawled completely on top of him and straddled him.  He sat up and put his hands flat on Dean’s chest.

“A travesty that I will remedy as soon as possible.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be late for work.”

Cas leaned forward.  “My boss will just have to go fuck himself because I’m going to be way too busy fucking you.”

Dean reached up and grabbed Cas by the hair at the back of his head and used it to pull him to the mattress as he flipped them over.  Cas yelped at the sudden change in orientation and then groaned when he felt Dean push between his legs.

“Not unless you’re busy _getting_ fucked.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Cas said breathlessly.  “You’re already hard again?”

“My brush with death has left me feeling…rejuvenated.”

“Apparently.”

Dean reached between his legs and pushed three fingers easily into his hole.  “Hm.  Perfect.”

“Do it,” Cas practically whined.  “Come on.”

Dean removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.  He pushed inside him, and then paused.

“Shit.  I forgot the condom again.”

He started to pull out but Cas wrapped his leg around his back and held him in place.

“Don’t care, just do it.  Do it.”

“Cas, we shouldn’t—“

“Fuck me, Dean!  Please!”

Dean drove forward suddenly and Cas cried out and arched his back, the muscles in his arm working to hold himself close to Dean where it was wrapped around his broad shoulders.  Dean moved again, and then kept moving, building up a fast, hard rhythm.  Cas moaned and almost shouted with each thrust.  He’d always been a talker in bed—and been told it was sexy and distracting depending on who he was with—but he’d never really been a screamer.  He was screaming now.

“Dean, Dean!  Come inside me.  Oh, fuck, I’m gonna…Dean, fuck, I’m coming!”

Cas squeezed his eyes shut as his words spurred Dean to fuck him even harder.  He wasn’t sure if he’d actually achieved an erection again, but he was definitely feeling that sweeping pleasure throughout his body that usually accompanied fucking amazing orgasms.

“Cas, baby, you gotta let me go.”

“No,” Cas panted, “just do it.”

“Cas…fuck!”

Cas felt his entire body relax even as Dean’s stiffened.  He felt him come inside him, his seed filling his body and warming him from within.  He’d never let anyone come inside him before, even when he’d trusted someone enough not to use condoms.  He was completely lax as Dean’s movement stuttered and his hips jerked roughly against his.  And then he collapsed on top of him, breathing hard.  Cas petted his damp hair and hummed softly, pleasantly buzzed.

“That was stupid,” Dean murmured into Cas’ shoulder.

Cas shrugged.  “I’m about to quit my job.  Today is a day for doing stupid shit.”

Dean pushed weakly up onto his forearms so he could look at Cas.  “You mean it?  You’re going to quit?”

“One more case.  And I’m out.”

“You know what happens when people say, ‘just one more,’ right?”

Cas sighed despondently and combed his fingers through Dean’s hair.  “Yeah, I do.  But…I’ve never gotten this far.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’ve thought about it, but I’ve never said it out loud.  I’ve never meant it.”  Cas tilted his head slightly as he had an epiphany.  “I’ve never meant it.  Not until now.”

Dean kissed his cheekbone.  “So what’s different now?”  He kissed the corner of his eye.

“Hmm, I wonder?”

Dean kissed the bridge of his nose and then moved to kiss his mouth.  They kissed slowly and lazily, like the rest of the rest of the world could wait until they were done with this moment and each other.  And perhaps while the world could wait, Mother Nature could not.  Dean pulled back.

“I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

Cas blinked at him.  “Lovely.  Very romantic.  And not at all gross considering where your dick is.”

Dean squirmed to sit up and carefully, though not quite carefully enough for Cas’ taste, pulled out.  He scooted off the bed and walked into the bathroom.  Cas propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the clock.  He winced.  He was not going to make it into work by six.  Not if he wanted to shower and eat before he went.  If he didn’t eat at home he probably wouldn’t have time to stop and eat all day at the office.

From inside the bathroom, Cas heard the toilet flush and then the shower start up.  Dean’s voice echoed off the tile as he called out to him.

“You going to join me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have time for a long shower.”

“It’ll be faster if we shower together.”

“There is nothing fast about you and me being naked in the same place.”

He heard Dean’s faint chuckle.  “Get in here.  Now.”

Cas sighed and slid out of bed.  He walked slowly as he felt that delicious, sore pain in his body.  It wasn’t like from the dildo—this was different.  This was nothing but pleasant, remembering what it felt like to have Dean inside of him.  He felt his body flush hot and shiver with a chill of anticipation at the same time.  Uriel and his firm be damned, Cas wasn’t going to work without getting fucked at least once more.

Cas leaned in the doorframe of the bathroom and watched Dean brush his teeth with the spare, unopened toothbrush he’d found in the medicine cabinet.  He spoke around the foam in his mouth and Cas could only guess that he’d asked something about seeing him again.

“Probably not until this weekend.  I have to go through this case with a fine toothed combed and then I’ll probably be in court all day Friday.”

Dean spit in the sink and rinsed out his mouth.  “This weekend won’t work for me.  I’m on duty.”

“Active duty?” Cas asked, squeezing some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and frowning when he noticed that Dean had squeezed the tube from the middle.

“No, not yet.  Fuckers.  They said it has to be at least two months.  Maybe three.”

“Probably not a bad idea,” Cas said before sticking his toothbrush in his mouth.

Dean made a face at him.  “Don’t be on their side.”  He stepped into the large, glass-walled shower.  “So, if not this weekend, when?”

Dean swiped a hand over the glass to clear the fog and Cas shrugged at him.  Dean didn’t wait for a real answer and picked up the bar of Irish Spring from the soap dish on the wall and worked up a lather.  Cas finished brushing his teeth and stepped into the shower to find Dean covered head to foot in suds.

“Like being clean?”

“Yes.”

Cas shook his head at that fairly ridiculous exchange and pushed Dean’s face under the rain-like fall of water from the showerhead attached to the ceiling.  Then he stepped under with him and kissed him, enjoying it a little better with fresh breath to make things more pleasant.  Dean’s arms went around his waist and his own arms circled Dean’s shoulders.  They pressed close and held each other tightly as they kissed under the falling water.  He felt more intimate with Dean in that moment than he ever had with anyone before.  He had an inane desire to pull back and tell Dean that he loved him, repeatedly and adoringly, but his own doubt that what he was feeling was really love held him back just as much as his certainty that Dean would freak the fuck out.

Cas only held on tighter when Dean moved his lips to his cheek and then his neck and groaned brokenly against Cas’ warm skin.  His stubble rasped along his sensitive skin and made him shiver.

“Cas,” Dean whisper-moaned.  “God, Cas.”

Cas put one hand to the back of Dean’s head and held him close.

“Cas, I…I want…”

Dean left his sentence unfinished and Cas didn’t prod him to fill in the blank.  Neither of them was ready for it yet.  Gently, Cas pushed back on Dean until they separated just enough to see a sliver of light between their bodies.  Dean leaned forward and kissed him one more time, hard and full of all their unspoken feelings.  Then he pulled back and turned Cas around with light pressure against one shoulder.  He picked up the soap where it had fallen unnoticed to the floor and began to soap up Cas’ shoulders and back.

“So.  When are we going to see each other again?”

Cas heaved a sigh that trailed off into a moan as Dean massaged a knot of muscles in his lower back.

“I don’t know, babe.  But we’ll work it out.”

“Okay.  I’ll bring the want ads when I see you again.”

“The want ads?” Cas asked, only half listening as he relaxed against Dean.

“To help you look for a new job?  You think I’m going to date some unemployed loser and support his broke ass?”

“Oh, that.  Oo, there, push there—yeah, ow…no, it’s fine.  Yeah…oh thanks.  That’s better.”

Dean nudged him.  “I don’t make enough to be your sugar daddy.”

“That’s fine.  My sister will support me.”

“You’d mooch off your sister?”

“She wouldn’t even notice it.  She really doesn’t need to work; just does it to keep busy.  She inherited her husband’s fortune when he died.”  Cas opened his eyes.  “Hunh.  I wonder if that’s why Uriel’s been hitting on me lately.”

“I’m sorry who’s been doing what now?”

“Maybe he wants to keep the money in the family…hmm…”

“Cas.”  Dean slapped his butt.  “How did a urinal hit on you?”

“Uriel.  His name is Uriel.”

“Weird fucking name.  Who is he?”

“My ex.”

“And your ex is hitting on you?” Dean growled, wrapping a possessive arm around Cas’ middle.

Cas smiled and snuggled back into Dean’s embrace.  “Mm-hmm.  I even told him I have a boyfriend now.  Still went after me.”

Dean’s hands tightened on his body and Cas hissed slightly as he felt his cock twitch.

“Is he bothering you?  Stalking you?”

“No.  We just have to see each other on occasion.  Well, almost daily now.”

“Why?” Dean ground out, sounding less like he was being playful.

“Well, he’s my boss.”

Cas gasped slightly as Dean spun him around suddenly.  “Your boss?  Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Ow, Dean, my arm…”

Dean released him immediately and soothed the place he had been gripping Cas’ upper arm.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Dean let out a small huff and met Cas’ eyes.  “Cas, what is going on?”

“Nothing, Dean.  I would never—“

“I’m not asking if you’re cheating.  I’m asking why you’re talking so casually about your boss sexually harassing you.”

“It’s not—“  Cas broke off.  “Well, actually I guess it is sexual harassment.  But we used to date.  I thought he was just being…nostalgic.”

“Cas, you’re an intelligent man, but you’re being really stupid about this.”

“Dean, it’s not a big deal.  I really was just trying to rile you up.  Yes, Uriel made a pass at me ye—the other day—but he backed off when I told him no.”

 _More or less_ , Cas added to himself.

Cas took Dean’s face in his hands and pulled him close.  “Relax, tiger.  Nothing to worry about.”

Dean resisted Cas’ coaxing for a moment, and then kissed him, grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him close.  He backed him up against the wall and Cas hissed when the cold tile assaulted his skin.  But then Dean was hefting him and he had his legs around Dean’s waist.  He cursed in surprise when he felt Dean maneuvering his perfectly hard member against his hole.

“Shit, Dean, your refractory period is fucking unreal!”

Cas screamed as Dean pushed into him again.

“Oh, yes.  Oh fuck yes.  Dean, Dean…”

Cas cut off and held on as Dean drilled him against his shower wall.  He didn’t argue when after their shower Dean shoved him face down on the bed and ate out his ass until he was hard enough to fuck him again.  He didn’t complain that he got covered in his own come when Dean jacked him hard and dirty on the floor like they were animals.

He was nearly two hours late to work and wasn’t phased in the least by Uriel’s displeased glare.

~~~

Castiel put his hands behind his back as he crossed the courtroom floor between his table and the witness stand.  He stopped directly in front of the man occupying the chair.  He was fidgeting and refusing to make eye contact.  He’d been cleaned up by the prosecution and forced into an ill-fitting suit, but that couldn’t disguise the general miasma of filth that hung about the man.

“So,” Castiel said very slowly, more to help keep his temper in check than because he thought the man couldn’t understand him.  “You’re saying that the man who bought the gun from you is in the courtroom.”

The man’s eyes darted around the room.  “Yeah, he’s here.  But I don’t know which.”

“You don’t know which what?”

“I don’t know which one of them it was.”

Cas stepped to the side so that he wouldn’t block the man’s view of the two tables where Andy Gallagher and Ansem Weems sat separately.

“You’re not sure which of these men you sold a gun too?”

“No, man.  I mean, they’re twins.”

Cas blinked slowly, trying to process that.  “They’re not identical twins.”

The man shrugged.  Cas looked at the judge who was leaning heavily on her hand on the bench.  She gave him a commiserating look.  Cas sighed softly.

“No further questions, your honor,” Cas said and walked to his seat.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” Judge Mills said dryly, “you may step down.  Today’s session is adjourned.  We’ll start again at nine a.m. tomorrow.”

She banged her gavel and everyone barely had time to get to their feet before she was off the bench and through the door that led to her chambers.  Cas gave Andy an attempt at a comforting pat on the back as the bailiff put him back in handcuffs.

“It’s alright, Andy.  That didn’t hurt your case at all.”

Andy gave him a weak smile and was led off with his brother to the vehicle that would transport them back to prison.  Cas turned to Hannah who was packing up their paperwork into one briefcase.  Cas always shared one with his co-chair for cases so that nothing would get lost or misplaced or forgotten.  She snapped the lid shut and turned to look at him.

“Well, that could have gone better,” she said.

Cas gave a half shrug.  “Could have gone worse too.”

“I guess.  So, are we going back to the office to go over the depositions for tomorrow?  Again?”

“Yep,” Cas said with a tight smile.  “Welcome to the wonderful world of criminal court.”

“Awesome.”

Cas paused, for just a moment, upon hearing that word.  It was one of Dean’s favorite things to say.  Cas groaned inwardly as he followed Hannah out of the courthouse and to the curb to flag down a taxi.  He missed Dean and getting little reminders of him was the goddamned salt in the proverbial wound.  Seven weeks.  Almost two months.  It was fucking ridiculous how they couldn’t even manage their schedules to get together for a damn cup of coffee or something.  Sexting and Skype sex were not how to have a relationship.  Although watching Dean finger himself open via webcam had been glorious.  Right up until he’d jizzed all over his laptop keyboard because he’d been so focused on Dean.  That had been a bitch to clean up and he was certain there was still probably some semen dried under the keys.  It wasn’t like he could take it to get professionally cleaned—not with _that_ as the reason.

Cas strummed his fingers on his knees as he sat in the cab.  He was aware that Hannah was talking about something, but basically once his mind wandered to thoughts of Dean, it was very hard to focus on anything else.  He frowned as he realized that was probably why he tried not to think about him often.  His phone buzzed in his coat pocket and he eagerly dug it out, expecting Dean to have sensed he was thinking about him and called him as a result.  He very disappointed to see that it was just his doctor’s office.  He answered with a perfunctory, “This is Castiel Novak.”

“Hello Castiel, this is Dr. Roberts.  I have your results and I’m happy to report that all the tests came back negative.”

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yes, well, if you want it to stay that way I suggest you and your partner act a little more responsibly.”

“That’s not a problem at all,” Cas muttered, thinking about how they couldn’t get together long enough to hold hands let alone have sex.

“And as long as I have you, I wanted to let you know that your other tests came back pretty good: cholesterol, blood sugar, thyroid, kidneys…all within good ranges.  Your blood pressure is slightly elevated though.”

“Yes, we discussed this when I was there.”

“Mm-hmm.  Please schedule another appointment in six months so we can assess its progress.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good day, Castiel.”

Cas put the phone down and realized he wasn’t feeling relief from the news—he wasn’t really feeling anything.  He hadn’t been worried about the second test after all.  Two days after his night with Dean, he’d made an appointment to make sure he didn’t have anything he might have given to Dean.  When those tests had come back clean, he’d breathed a sigh of relief and contacted Dean.  Dr. Roberts had insisted he come back after six weeks to run another panel since he’d admitted to having unprotected sex.  He thought it was unnecessary since he trusted Dean, but she had insisted.  It was good to know they were both clean.  He wondered if that meant he no longer had to even put up a token “we shouldn’t be doing this” the next time they forwent the condom.  Of course, that would require a next time happening.  Cas realized he was starving for it.  Not just the sex—but for _Dean_.

How could someone he’d known for such a short amount of time and whom he rarely even saw in person leave such a gaping hole in his life when he wasn’t around?  It was frightening.  And a little exhilarating.  And definitely made their difficult relationship worth the effort.

When they got to the firm, Cas sent Hannah off to her office to start setting up their work area.  They would definitely be disturbed less there than in his.  He ducked inside his own office just to drop off his coat and grab his work laptop.  He should have known better.

“Castiel.”

The voice was low and rich and once upon a time had made him happy whenever he heard it.  Now it just filled him with a mild sense of dread.  He turned to watch Uriel step into the office and shut the door behind him.  Uh-oh.  That wasn’t a good sign.

“Hi, Uriel.  Hannah and I just got back from court on the Gallagher/Weems case.  We’re going to go over the depositions for tomorrow in her office so…”  He trailed off and hoped his boss would take a hint.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Uriel said even as he settled into one of the comfortable chairs opposite Cas’ desk.  “I just need to ask you a couple questions about your performance lately.”

“My performance?’ Cas said, involuntarily bristling.

“Oh, not with your case work.  You have been brilliant, as usual, on your cases.  Especially the Sands case.”

Cas had relaxed slightly with the praise, but then tensed again at Sands’ name.

“What we need to discuss is your case load.”

Cas felt a twist of anxiety coupled with weary relief as he sank down into his office chair.  He’d been waiting for this conversation and the relief of finally having it made a weight slip off his shoulders.  But of course that also meant he had to actually have the conversation and there was no way it was going to go well.

“You are aware that you’re contractually obligated to bring in so many billable hours a week, correct?  I’m sure you do.”

“Yes,” Cas said, playing idly with a pen.

“You’ve never even come close to falling short all the years you’ve worked here, but in these past few weeks, you have been.  I hear you’re refusing to take on new clients or accept assignments from senior partners.”

“That’s—not entirely accurate.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m—trying to limit my legal obligations at this point and time.”

“And why is that?” Uriel asked, still calmly, but through his teeth.

Cas inhaled deeply.  Now or never.  “Because I intend to tender my resignation to The Finnerman Firm soon and I don’t want to have any legal or ethical obligations keeping me entangled with the firm after I leave.”

It was silent in the room.  Dead quiet.  Castiel waited for Uriel to speak, to react.  He grew more anxious with every second that ticked away like a sledgehammer taking steady swings at his head.  Then Uriel crossed his legs and clasped his hands on his knee.

“I see,” he said calmly.  Way too fucking calmly.  “Well, if you’ve decided to leave us…I don’t suppose there’s any incentive we could offer to make you change your mind?”

Cas tried to gulp quietly, and then shook his head.  “It’s not—“ he paused and swallowed.  His mouth was dry.  “It’s not about wanting more perks or a higher salary.  It’s a personal decision, so I’m afraid I can’t be swayed.”

“Very well then.”

Cas narrowed his eyes.  This was going way too easily.

“Of course until you do resign, you’ll be expected to meet all of your contractual obligations; starting by meeting your billable hours quota.”

“But…if I take on more cases to get my billable hours up, I’ll have an unending string of cases that I’m legally attached to.”

“Oh, and speaking of cases, you will of course have to close all of your open cases before you resign, including the requisite follow up after each judgment, which means all associated appeals.”

Cas spluttered for a moment.  “But…the appeals process on any case, especially a murder trial, can take years!”

Uriel smoothed his tie down with a hand.  “I trust that you won’t be in breach of your contract before tendering your resignation.”  He looked up and made hard eye contact.  “You couldn’t afford it.”

Cas squeezed his hand around the pen until it hurt.  “You can bankrupt me, Uriel, but I’m sure my sister will be happy to support me.  So either way I’ll still be enjoying the spoils of Finnerman profits.”

“Aw, Castiel.  You must know that if you break your contract with The Finnerman Firm, it would bankrupt the both of you.”

“Would you do that to Raphael’s wife?”

Uriel’s eyes hardened.  “Don’t try to manipulate me with the memory of my brother.  My brother is dead and his wife is no relation of mine.”

“Jesus, Uriel.”

“Castiel, I don’t want to have this conversation again.  The Sands case is over; put it behind you.  You like the work, you like working here—don’t deny it.  You belong here.”

“You can keep me here if you want—but I’m not going to sleep with you again.”

“Mr. Novak, are you trying to imply that you want me to break company policy and our legal contract in exchange for sex?”

Castiel gritted his teeth.  “Don’t twist my words, Uriel.”

Uriel stood up and looked down on him.  “You have work to do, Mr. Novak.  Don’t waste my money.”

Cas bit back his scathing insult and watched Uriel walk out of his office, his whole body shaking with his anger.  Once the door was shut, Cas clenched his hands tightly and focused his thoughts inward so he wouldn’t pick something up and throw it across the room like a melodramatic child.  He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled it even slower through his mouth.  He did that a couple more times and his muscles began to unlock and relax.  He knew he wasn’t _really_ trapped; at least, not in the way Uriel was implying.  He could get out if he really wanted to, but he was upset that Uriel was going to fight him on this.  He would have thought the man had more respect for him.

Castiel put his jacket back on and gathered everything he thought he would need for the case and then some.  He marched down to Hannah’s office and told her to pack everything up.  They were going to work at his condo because he didn’t want to be bothered for the rest of the evening and he really didn’t want the possibility of Uriel checking in on them.  He didn’t need a supervisor.  And he certainly didn’t need a dick of an ex-boyfriend/boss pestering him.

Fortunately Hannah was amenable to the idea of getting out of the office, especially after Cas promised to buy them Chinese food for while they worked.  A couple hours later found them in Castiel’s living room, every flat surface covered in paperwork, and their stomachs grumbling.  What the hell was taking the Jade Dragon so long?

Hannah groaned softly as she tossed a file on the couch cushion next to her and leaned back.  “These depositions are a mess,” she grumbled.

“They are,” Cas agreed from his place on the floor next to the coffee table.  “But that will work to our advantage.  We’ll be able to tear the witness apart tomorrow on the stand.”

Hannah frowned.  “He’s only a kid.”

“True, but sometimes we have to set our compassion aside.  We’re talking about a man’s life.  Andy could go to prison for life.  Maybe even get the death penalty.  I think rattling some young punk is worth it.”

Hannah strummed her fingers on her knee.  “Do you really think Andy is innocent?  I mean, I don’t think he shot her.  But did he conspire with his brother?”

“You mean his long lost evil twin?” Cas laughed softly.  “No, I don’t.  I think Weems is psychotic and killed Andy’s girlfriend because he viewed her as an obstacle.”

Cas stood up, grimacing a little as his joints protested the move after being folded up for so long on the hard floor.  He handed Hannah the file he’d been reviewing.

“Will you double check that for me?  I made notes—“

“In the margins.  Got it.”

She grinned at him and Cas smiled back.  He liked Hannah.  She reminded him a little bit of Jess.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom.  Do you want something to drink?”

“A beer would be great.  But where is our foooood?”

“I don’t know.  They usually don’t take this—“

The intercom by the front door buzzed.

“Ugh, finally.”

Cas crossed to the front door and pushed the button to speak.  “Yeah?”

“Good evening, Mr. Novak,” the doorman started, “there’s someone—“

“Send him up,” Cas said and dug his wallet out of his back pocket.  He tossed it to Hannah on his way to the bathroom.  “Can you pay when he gets here?”

“Sure.”

Cas figured he would probably finish before the delivery guy made it up the elevator and all the way down the hall to his door, but just in case he didn’t want any more delays in them getting their food.  He heard the knock at the door as he washed his hands.  He paused after drying his hands to look at himself in the mirror.  He scrunched his face and then relaxed it.  This job was giving him wrinkles.

Then he heard Hannah’s voice float down the hallway, it sounded a little—not urgent, but maybe concerned?  He left the bathroom to find out what was going on.  Surely the Jade Dragon delivery guy wasn’t giving her any trouble?  Then he heard a deep, rough voice say, “I can come back another time.”

Cas darted down the hallway and into the main room.  He saw Dean in the hallway, turning to leave.

“Dean!”

He turned back and Hannah stepped back so she wasn’t in between them.  Cas smiled as he approached Dean, but immediately noticed that his body was full of tension and his eyes were a little wild.

“Dean,” Cas said, trying not to think that Dean thought he was cheating on him with Hannah.  “This is Hannah, one of my work colleagues.  We were working on a case that we have to appear in court for tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, hi,” Dean said distractedly.  “You’re busy.  It’s fine.  I should have called.”

Cas stepped forward and grabbed his wrist even though Dean hadn't actually made a movement to try to leave again.

“No, it’s fine.  You’re always welcome.  Please come in.”

“But, your case—“

“We were basically done anyway.”  A complete lie.  “Please.”

Dean stepped inside and glanced at Hannah.  She was fidgeting with Cas’ wallet.

“Ah, Hannah, um…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine, Castiel.  I feel like we’ve done all we can do.  Better just close up shop.”  She smiled.  “I’ll start gathering everything together.”

She handed Cas his wallet and walked into the living room.  Cas saw Dean’s eyes track over the space.  He turned to him.

“You’re not done,” he said.

“Shh,” Cas said, rubbing a soothing hand over Dean’s back.  “This way.”

Cas led Dean back to his bedroom and sat him down on the bed.  He tilted his head as he looked at him.  The tension was still in his body, but it was his eyes that really had Cas worried.  He took Dean’s face in his hands.

“Dean, baby, what’s wrong?”

Dean pulled away and shook his head.  Cas felt worry and confusion creating a nervous ripple in his gut.  He turned and left the room to go check on Hannah’s progress.  He helped her pack up the rest of the scattered documents into their shared briefcase.

“Sorry, I—“

Hannah held up a hand.  “No need to explain.  If my boyfriend needed me I’d kick you out too.”

Cas let out a huff of laughter, too worried about Dean to manage more than that.  “Thank you.  I’ll be sure to finish this—“

“Please,” Hannah said, giving him a look and taking the briefcase.  “Like you’re going to have time tonight.  We’re prepared anyway.  This was just double-checking.  I can do that.  Just, don’t leave me hanging tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be at court early, at eight o’clock.”

“Okay.  See you then.”

Cas walked her to the door and when he opened it an employee of Jade Dragon was standing at the threshold, hand poised in the air to knock.

“Thirty-five-fifty,” he said.

Cas quickly pulled out his wallet and paid the man.  Then he tried to hand the food to Hannah.

“You should take this with you.”

“Are you kidding?  You ordered enough food to feed China.  I will take the General Tso and some rice though.”

“Don’t forget your fortune cookie,” Cas said, tossing one in the plastic bag that had been wrapped around the paper delivery bag.

“Thanks.  Hey.  I hope everything is okay.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” he said as he gave her a reassuring smile.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Cas shut the door and dropped off the rest of the food in the kitchen.  Then he walked to his bedroom and found Dean pretty much exactly where he’d left him.  He didn’t bother trying to ask him anything, he just took his face in his hands and kissed him.  He held him close and tightly so he couldn’t pull away again, and kissed him insistently.  It only took a few moments to coax Dean’s mouth open and then he was inside him, feeling the heat of his mouth, tasting the whisky he’d been drinking.  He pulled back and nuzzled their noses together.

“Lie down,” he said softly.

Dean removed his shoes and then pushed himself back to lie in the center of the bed.  Cas had already taken his shoes, jacket, and tie off before he had begun working with Hannah, so he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slid it off his shoulders.  Dean’s eyes were focused on him intently.  He moved his hands to his belt and worked it open along with his fly.  The pants fell to the floor with a soft whoosh.  He took off his socks, but left his boxer briefs on.  He crawled onto the bed and slowly and gently began removing Dean’s clothes.  It was done lovingly and reverently, but with little passion.  By the time Dean was down to his underwear, both only had a hint of an erection.

Cas kissed Dean’s ankles, and then his calves, working his way up Dean’s legs, alternating sides.  He nuzzled his groin and felt his cock grow a little more, but then he continued on to his stomach, his chest.  He picked up an arm and kissed his way from wrist to shoulder.  He skimmed his lips over Dean’s clavicle and then licked his way up Dean’s throat to his jaw.  He kissed his forehead, his eyes, his nose, and then he kissed him fully on the mouth.  Unlike his previous attentions, this was hard and demanding and forceful.  Dean responded with a surprised, gasping whimper and let Cas tongue him willingly and submissively.

Minutes later when Cas was spending more time panting again Dean’s lips than kissing him, he pulled back and was pleased to see Dean flushed, his eyes glassy, and his lips swollen and turning white from the wanted abuse.  He cupped Dean’s face and stroked a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Baby, I know something’s wrong.  But I’m going to take care of you first, okay?  Then we’ll talk about it.”

Dean nodded and raised a hand to clutch weakly at Cas’ arm.

Cas settled his weight on Dean’s body and began rubbing their groins together.  He kissed him again and ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach.  He knew that if they tried to talk about Dean’s problem before they made love, he would be on edge and possibly would get upset enough to leave before Cas could talk him down.  This way he could get Dean to relax, tire him out, and get him to a place where feeling vulnerable wasn’t so bad.  That’s why tonight was going to be a little different.

Cas slid off Dean’s body and quickly discarded his underwear before freeing Dean from his.  Then he moved him onto his side.  Cas rubbed one ass cheek fondly, and then pushed his thigh forward, getting him to bend his knee and partially expose himself.  Cas picked up the lube he’d had the foresight to dig out of the nightstand before getting on the bed and coated his fingers.  He rubbed Dean’s perineum for a few strokes, but then went straight for his entrance.  They didn’t need a lot of foreplay tonight.

Dean relaxed more and more and let out small, approving sounds as Cas fingered him.  Cas felt perfectly content to rub his erection against the back of Dean’s leg, probe his ass with three fingers, and kiss and bite his neck, but he knew Dean needed a little more.  He pulled his fingers out and Dean grumbled a protest.

“Shh, baby, it’ll be worth it.”

Cas reached out to pick up the condom he had placed on the bed with the lube, but Dean took it from his fingers and flung it across the room.  Alright then.  Cas slicked up his cock and put the head to Dean’s entrance.  The man pushed back against him and his cock slid between his legs instead of inside.

“Shh, shh, easy.  Let me take care of you.”

“Can take care of myself,” Dean muttered.

“I know.  But only I can do this…”

Cas pushed the head of his cock into Dean’s body.  Dean sucked in a sharp breath and arched his back.  Cas moved slowly, working the tip of his cock back and forth just inside Dean’s entrance.  The ridge around the head kept catching on the rim and prevented him from popping out completely.  Dean whined and squirmed and clenched the duvet in his hand.

“Come on, Cas.”

“Come on, what?”

He heard Dean grunt in annoyance.

“What was that?”

“More, you asshat.  Go deeper.”

“Mm, like this?”

Cas pushed his hips forward and slipped farther into Dean’s body.  He paused and clutched at Dean’s arm as he tried to control his own reaction to feeling Dean envelope him.

“All the way, you little shit.  Deeper, please,” he added in a whisper, almost shamefully.

Cas took pity and slid in to the hilt.  Dean moaned long and low when Cas’ body became flush with his.  Cas bit Dean’s shoulder to stave off his orgasm.  Dean was tight.  Like virgin tight.

“You don’t bottom often, do you, babe?” Cas panted.

“Shut up.  I’m fine.”

“Oh you’re more than fine.  Fuck, Dean…God this is supposed to be nice and slow and easy to make you feel good but all I want to do is bend you in half and fuck you straight through the mattress and into the floor.”

Dean moaned, gripped the duvet tighter, and threw his hips back, somehow forcing Cas in even deeper.  Then they groaned in unison as the pleasure-pain coursed through them.  Cas gently petted his hip.

“I know, baby,” he whispered in his ear.  “I want that too, but we’re going easy tonight.  Slow and easy.”

“No,” Dean breathed, but did nothing more than lay pliant in Cas' arms as he gently rocked his hips against Dean’s ass.  He barely pulled out before he was sliding in smoothly again.  Cas reached an arm over Dean’s waist and jacked his cock in the same easy, slow rhythm.  He buried his face in Dean’s hair and breathed in his scent deeply to keep himself under control.  He kept up the rolling, easy pace and teased Dean’s balls, his slit, the glans…Dean’s muscles got tighter and tighter and Cas could practically feel him vibrating with ecstasy and need.  Then he started to stroke him just a little harder, tightening his grip, at the same time he thrust completely inside and began rolling his hips.  Dean let out a long, wavering moan and Cas knew he was stimulating his prostate with each roll of his hips.  Dean’s voice became louder and more desperate.  He pressed back against Cas to get him deeper and put his hand on Cas’ wrist.

“Oh, shit…shit!  Fuck, Cas…I’m—I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”

Cas tightened his grip just a bit more and then Dean was true to his word.  His come shot out of him in strong, hot bursts.  He was completely unreserved as he scream-groaned his way through the orgasm and the aftershocks.  Cas eased up little by little until Dean was relaxed and panting beside him.  Then Dean threw an arm back to grab Cas’ hip.  He rolled onto his stomach, keeping Cas inside him.

“Do it,” he said weakly.

Cas got on his hands and knees and drilled into Dean’s ass.  Dean spread his legs a little more and Cas fucked him all the harder, pleased with the hedonistic grunts that fell from Dean’s lips every time he slammed home.  Cas moved a hand to the center of Dean’s back.  He gritted his teeth at the sight of it.  He felt like he was taking possession of Dean—everything he was and ever would be.  He bent his fingers, digging his nails into Dean’s skin.  Dean keened and jerked under him.  Cas could feel himself smiling like a madman as he came and fucked his seed into Dean’s body.  He slowed incrementally, occasionally rolling his hips to really get it all into him.

“Yes, yes…Dean, you look beautiful like this.”

“With your dick up my ass?” he asked wryly.

Cas snapped his hips forward and Dean cried out.

“Yes.  Exactly.”

Cas rubbed his hands over Dean’s shoulders and still continued to rock into Dean’s body even after he’d felt himself soften almost completely.  Dean shivered under him and bit gently on his own forearm.

“Dean, I’ve never felt so…”  He couldn’t finish his sentence.  There weren’t words.  All he knew was that he belonged here, joined with Dean.

He finally stilled his movements, but was loathe to pull out.  Dean didn’t say anything to rush him.  Cas considered staying inside him until he was hard again, but then he remembered that Dean had come here because he was upset.  He slipped out easily and lay far enough away so that when he rolled Dean over to his back they pressed right up against each other, but not on top of each other.  Cas reached out and took Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers together.  He didn’t know if he should ask Dean what was wrong or if he should wait him out.  He felt Dean turn his head so that his forehead rested against his temple.

“Cas…”

“Yeah?”

“Your coworker…she called you something.  Cas Steel.  Is that your boxing name or something?”

Cas chuckled.  “Oh, that’s right.  You don’t know what Cas is short for.”

“Your parents named you Cas Steel?  Were they expecting you to become an action star?”

Cas chuckled again and turned his head more toward Dean.  “No, not quite.  Castiel.  It’s my full name.”

“Castiel,” Dean said slowly, testing the name on his tongue.  “That’s…”

“Odd, ridiculous, silly?”

“Different.”

“Different.  I’ll take it.”

“It mean anything?”

Cas shrugged.  “It’s an angel name.”

“An angel, hmm?  Never met anyone so misnamed in my life.”

“Wha?” Cas squawked.  “What does that mean?”

“Angels don’t own double-ended dildos, dude.”

“The devil is an angel.”

Dean laughed and rolled more onto his side so he could kiss Cas.  “I believe it, angel,” he murmured against his lips.

Cas almost let himself get carried away into a steamy make out session, but then he put a hand on Dean’s chest and pushed him back gently.

“Dean, will you tell me what has you so upset?”

Dean sighed and flopped onto his back.  “I’m not upset anymore.  You cured me.”

“Dean,” Cas reprimanded softly.

Dean put a hand to forehead and closed his eyes.  “I froze,” he said like he was confessing to murder.

Cas turned more toward him and kissed his deltoid.  “Froze?”

“On the job.  I went back on active duty yesterday.  Had our first call today.  We rode out there and I was fine.  I suited up and I was fine.  I saw the smoke and the fire coming out of a window and I was fine.  When we got up to the door and opened it—I heard it.  The crackling.  The roar.  And I froze.  Victor barely managed to cover for me.  He asked me to go make sure the hoses didn’t kink before they filled.  He took Benny in with him.”

Dean shook his head and bit his bottom lip hard.  Cas reached out and gently swept his thumb over his puckered bottom lip until Dean’s teeth released it.

“It’s alright, baby.  You went through a traumatic experience.  That’s normal.”

“No.  You don’t understand.  The shrink was not terribly supportive of me returning to active duty as it was.  I insisted I was fine.  You can’t—not be fine in this line of work.  What if I had frozen while I was inside?  What if I was too scared to do my fucking job and someone got hurt?  Or killed?  I can’t let my brothers down like that.  And I can’t admit what happened; I’ll never be allowed on active duty again.  I’ll probably be asked to retire.”

Cas kept his hand tucked under Dean’s jaw, stroking the soft skin and even softer scruff.  Dean’s beard was so soft, which was unusual to say the least.

“Would that be so bad?”

He felt Dean’s jaw clench against his hand.

“Not doing the only thing that means anything to me?  Yeah, it would be bad.”

“But so would doing a job you’re not prepared to do.  It’s not just a matter of your pride or your wants.  Like you said, other people’s lives are at risk if you fail.”

“Shit, Cas, don’t try to soften the blow or anything.”

“Do you want me to?  Do you want this to be frivolous, disingenuous comfort?”

Dean’s jaw clenched to the other side, but he wasn’t pulling away.  Not yet.

“You said I needed to look in the want ads for a new job.  Maybe you should too.  Maybe we could both…start over.  With each other.”

“That’s hardly the same, Cas.”

“Why?”

“Because what I do matters.  It’s important.  I save people.  I work with people that I consider to be my family.  You hate your job.  And it doesn’t benefit anybody.  You work for a pervert asshole who forces you to keep terrorists out of prison so that he can make money.”

Cas stopped moving his hand and felt a little cold.

“You might have said no one way, but don’t mistake that he’s bent you over and fucked you good.”

Cas withdrew his arm.  He rolled over onto his back, putting a sliver a space between them so they weren’t touching anymore.

“Fuck.  Cas, I’m sorry.”

Cas moved his hand and found Dean’s.  He held it and gave it a light squeeze.

“You’re right,” he said.

“No, I’m not.  I’m really not.  I’m just upset.”

“No, I’m trying to get out of my job.  I told Uriel today that I wanted to resign.  He won’t make it easy, but I do want out from under him.”

“You only mean that in the metaphorical sense, right?”

Cas sat up and scowled at Dean.  “Yes, Dean.  I’m not fucking my boss.”

“I didn’t—Cas, where are you going?”

“To the kitchen,” he said as he hopped into his underwear.  “I’m hungry.”

He left Dean behind and couldn’t really focus on one thought as so many were swirling in his head.  He wasn’t really upset by the truth of Dean’s words—he’d certainly thought the same of his career and boss, especially lately.  What bothered him was that that was how Dean saw him.  What the hell chance did their relationship have of working if he thought so little of him?

In the kitchen, Cas didn’t even bother heating up the Chinese food.  It still had just a suggestion of warmth to it and that was good enough.  He sat down on one the bar stools at his kitchen island with a pair of chopsticks and dug in.  After a couple of bites, he heard Dean shuffle into the kitchen.

“Got any silverware?” he asked.

Cas nodded his head toward the silverware drawer, and Dean sat on the stool beside him after retrieving a fork.  He pulled the sweet and sour chicken close to him and ate a couple of bites.  They chewed in silence, staring at the backsplash behind Cas’ sink—a pretty sandstone with veins of iridescent pink and green.  It had cost him a fortune to gut this apartment and modernize it.  If he quit The Finnerman Firm he more than likely wouldn’t be able to find another job that would allow him to cover his mortgage.  Not unless he turned to corporate law like his sister, which really wasn’t much better ethically speaking.  So, he’d have to move out.  Find a new place.  Could he live in Brooklyn?  He made a face.

“What?” Dean asked around a mouthful of lo mein.

“Hmm?” Cas asked.

“Why’d you make that face?”

“Just thinking about living in Brooklyn.”

Dean snorted but didn’t look particularly offended.

“Could you live on Manhattan?” Cas asked.

“Why would I want to?”

“I was just thinking.  If I quit The Finnerman Firm and got a job teaching or something.  And you retired from the fire department and like, became an underwear model or something—”

Dean’s scoffing laughter made him choke on his food.  Cas absently patted his back while he hacked the bolus out of his esophagus.

“Glasses?” he croaked.

Cas pointed to a cabinet.  Cas continued his musing while Dean filled a glass with water and drank it down.

“Then I was wondering if we would live in Brooklyn or Manhattan.  I mean, I know Brooklyn is your home, and I don’t have anything against it per se…”

Dean leaned on the island across from Cas.

“Brooklyn isn’t my home.  I wasn’t born or raised there.  It’s just where I live now.”

Cas finally looked up and made eye contact.

“Then we could really start over.  Leave New York.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose slightly.  “And go where?”

“LA?  Chicago?  Maybe New Orleans—though I don’t like humidity.”

“How about somewhere more middle America?  Like Kansas.”

Cas made a face worse than his Brooklyn one.  “I’d rather live on Staten Island.”

Dean laughed.  “ _Now_ you’re insulting my home.”

“Oh.  Oh, sorry.”

Dean waved a dismissive hand.  Then his smile faded.  “Yeah, I couldn’t leave New York.  I can’t leave Sam.”

Cas nodded thoughtfully.  “I guess I wouldn’t want to move too far away from Jess either, but I don’t feel like I have to be close enough to get to her in twenty minutes or less.  Or…at least I did.  Before the…accident.”

Dean scratched his nail over a spot on the counter and kept his eyes intently on that action.

“Uh, do you uh, would you mind if I asked what happened?”

Cas inhaled, held his breath for a moment as he thought, and then exhaled easily.

“Well, the Cliffs Notes version is that three years ago she and her husband were at a night club in Sao Paolo when a fire broke out.  The emergency exits were locked or blocked and there was a mad panicking rush for the too large crowd to get out one set of doors.  Jess came out with some second-degree burns and pretty bad smoke inhalation.  Her husband didn’t come out.”

“Shit,” Dean said softly.

Cas nodded.  “She, uh, she’s a lot better than she was even just a year ago, but she still gets panic attacks when she’s in crowded, enclosed places.”

“I can imagine.  Is that what happened at that uppity snob party?”

“At what—oh.  Of course.  How many parties have you and I been to together?”

Dean grinned and Cas couldn’t fight his returning smile.  He was certain they were both thinking about their scandalous trip to the men’s room.

“Yes, she had a panic attack and I took her home.  I’m sorry I just left you.”

“No, I understand.  And maybe now Sam will too rather than moping about his lost lady love.”

Cas made a face.  “What did you call my sister?”

“His words not mine.  He went to go get someone to introduce to your sister, and when he got back she was gone.  He thought she’d sent him away so she could duck out and get away from him.”

“No.  She needed to get out.  And it’s a good thing she did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Dean’s hackles were raised.  Apparently he was uber attached to his brother.  Even more than Cas had initially realized.

“I just mean when I came back in to tell you and Sam that we had to leave, Sam was making out with some other chick.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t see her face.  But she was still a lot shorter than he even when he was sitting on a bar stool.”

“Long dark hair?”

“Yes.”

“Goddamn it, Sam.”

“What?  Who was it?”

“Ruby.  His bitch of an ex.”

“Well, clearly he’s not over her, so it’s probably for the best that he and Jess never connected again.”

“No, he’s over her.  He was just upset that he’d been dumped by the first woman he’d been interested in in a long time.  He told me he’d hooked up with someone because he was feeling sorry for himself, but he neglected to mention it was that viper.”

“But, Jess didn’t dump him.  She sent me back in there specifically to tell him that she hadn’t.”

“But that message never got delivered,” Dean said with a pointed look.

“He had someone else’s tongue in his mouth!  I wasn’t going to interrupt.”

Dean harrumphed and slumped down onto the counter.  Then he looked up at Cas.

“Should we tell them?” Dean asked.

“Tell them what?”

“That it was all just a misunderstanding.  He still talks about her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Met her twice, but she left an impression.”

Cas strummed his fingers on the counter.  “What good would it do now though?  Do you think if we tell them about it they will leave their apartments in the middle of the night to run to each other’s arms?”

Dean rolled his eyes slightly.  “Sam might.”

“Well, maybe we can arrange a meeting for them instead of trusting them to get their shit together.”

“Would seem ironic since we can’t seem to arrange to meet ourselves.”

Cas sighed.  “Isn’t that the sad truth?”

They looked at each other for a moment, an uncomfortable silence between them as they realized their relationship wasn’t really much of a relationship at all.  Dean put a lid back on one of the food containers.

“So, I’ll help you clean up, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You—you don’t want to stay?  Or do you have to get back to the station?”

“No, my shift doesn’t start until tomorrow afternoon.  I could stay.  If you—"

“I do.”

Dean smiled.  "What if I was going to say 'if you don't mind?'"

"Don't be difficult."

Dean gave him a little wink and Cas tried not to let his adorableness make him forget about all their other problems.  They cleaned up the kitchen and then brushed their teeth—Dean using the same spare toothbrush he had last time that Cas had hoped would have been used a lot more often.  Cas griped that they needed to stop having sex on top of the duvet because it was getting stained beyond what even dry cleaning could fix.  They climbed into bed and moved immediately into each other’s arms.  Hands roamed freely over warm, bare skin and their lips trespassed at will over lips and jaws and necks.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Who does—" Cas cut off as Dean swept his tongue into his mouth.  He sucked on the hot, strong muscle for several moments and then Dean finally pulled back to kiss his cheek.  “Who does that other toothbrush belong to?  In your apartment?”

“Sam.”

“Oh.”

Cas ran his hand down to the small of Dean’s back and then threw a leg over Dean’s.  Their groins were stirring to life and he knew he was going to be utterly sleep deprived at court in the morning.  He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I guess he visits a lot.”

“Sam lives with me.”

Cas tilted his head at that piece of information as Dean practically gnawed on his neck.

“You live with your brother?”

“Yeah.  Our grandmother left that apartment to both of us.”

“But.  You’re both grown men…”

“You know what rent is like in nice places.  Especially for new renters.  One of us would have to have a roommate; why wouldn’t we room with each other?”

“I guess.  But you two seem awfully attached—”

Dean groaned in annoyance and Cas finished his sentence with a muffled yelp as he was flipped onto his stomach.  Dean rescued the lube from falling off the corner of the bed to the floor and had a couple of slicked up fingers at Cas’ entrance in record time.

“Can we please not talk about Sam right now?” Dean asked, working his fingers into Cas’ hole.

Cas got partially up on his knees and spread his legs; Dean’s fingers slid all the way in.

“Who?” Cas asked with a coy smile on his lips as he looked back over his shoulder.

Dean’s eyes narrowed playfully and he smacked Cas on his ass with his free hand.

“Mn.”  Cas did his best to bite back his moan.  He wasn’t really into spanking and he didn’t want to give Dean the wrong idea, but he did like when Dean got a handful of ass cheek with a hard smack and grab.

“Mm, Dean…when you’re inside me…I can’t think straight.  Your fingers are so warm and strong and, fuck, I should have dated a blue collar guy a long time ago because those calluses are awesome.”

“This is the weirdest dirty talk I have ever experienced, Cas.”

“Oh, give me your thick meat, baby.  Give my greedy, slutty hole the dicking it needs.  Shoot your jizz in my fuckhole.  Better?”

“Oh my god that was terrifying.”

Cas laughed and lowered himself back onto the bed.  He looked over his shoulder at Dean again and he was grinning too.  That haunted look in his eyes was gone, at least temporarily.

“Dean, I want you inside me.”

“I haven’t prepped—“

“It’s okay.”

Dean covered Cas’ body and guided his cockhead to Cas’ entrance.  He eased in, stopping at every soft noise Cas made.  Even still, Dean was fully seated within a matter of seconds.  Cas spread his legs again and Dean settled comfortably between them.  He kissed the back of Cas’ neck and then over his shoulders.  He rutted gently between his legs and Cas relaxed on the bed.  He hugged a pillow tightly and sighed in enjoyment as his dick rubbed the soft sheets and his prostate was massaged by virtue of Dean’s girth alone.  Dean’s movement sped up every few minutes, but it was an incredibly slow build.  By the time Cas orgasmed, it was merely the cherry on top.  He did clutch the sheets as another surprise burst of ecstasy shot through him when he felt Dean spill into his body.  Would he ever get used to the feeling of something so beautifully intimate?  He hoped not.

They only moved just enough for Dean to pull out and lay on his back and for Cas to snuggle against his side.  He could feel the evidence of Dean’s release between his thighs, but he had no desire to get up and wash himself clean.  Before he fell asleep he did manage to set the alarm on the wristwatch he still wore.  Turned out he didn’t need the wakeup call though.  He woke not two hours later with his cock down Dean’s throat.


	8. The Mistake

"Jesus, fuck," Cas grumbled as his cell phone went off again.  He struggled to keep his suit coat and briefcase in one arm and dig the phone out of his pocket with his free hand.  He swiped his thumb over the screen and put it to his ear as he dodged roughly seven hundred and thirty people on the sidewalk.

"Damn it, Dean.  Call me back when you're not going through dead spots."

"Cas!  It's Hannah."

"Oh, Hannah.  Where the hell are you?"

"I'm leaving Finnerman now.  I just got the call.  That jury wasn't out for two fucking hours!"

Cas was shocked into a momentary silence.  He'd never even heard Hannah say "darn it."

"I know.  I don't even know if this is good or bad.  But you pay your taxi driver triple to break every traffic law there is.  We're due in less than thirty minutes."

"Alright.  I'll see you there."

Cas hung up and ran up the steps to the courthouse.  He put his coat, briefcase, and phone on the belt to go through the X-ray machine.  He walked through the metal detector and waited impatiently for his belongings to roll slowly down the belt.  His phone went off again when it was just out of reach.  He squirmed as he waited for it to get close enough for him to reach around a slow moving man.  He got yelled at by the security guard for his troubles, but he managed to answer before it went to voicemail.  He checked the caller ID this time though.

"Dean.  Your calls have dropped out on me three times.  Where the hell are you?"

"Where the hell am I?  I'm in the fucking Hamptons.  Where _you're_ supposed to be."

Cas grabbed his belongings and hurried down the hallways to courtroom three.

"I know, I'm sorry.  I sent you a text."

"You sent a text. 'Babe.  Can't come.  Court decision.'  What the fuck is that?"

"The best I could do under the circumstances.  We got the call less than an hour ago that the jury had reached a verdict.  I _have_ to be in court for the verdict.  You understand at least that much, right?  I was in the middle of packing to come meet you and--"

"You were in the middle of packing.  An hour ago.  An hour ago you should have already been on your way here.  If you didn't want to come you should have just fucking said so."

"Dean, calm down.  I was running late.  Shit happens.  And who are you to talk?  I waited for _three_ hours at the restaurant last week and you never showed.  Couldn't be bothered to call either."

"I was on a run!  You can't exactly text while fighting fires, Cas."

"Were you actually fighting a fire, Dean?  Or standing outside unkinking the hoses?"

"Wow, fuck you, Cas."

"It's just a question!"  Cas sucked in a breath as he realized he was shouting.  He ducked into a semi-private corner.  "I mean I'd like to know how you're doing.  How your mental state is.  If you've started going inside buildings again.  But I don't know any of that.  Because we haven't talked in weeks!"

"Whose fault is that, Cas?  Every time I call you're busy on a case or some other bullshit.  I thought you were quitting."

"I told you I couldn't quit until this case was finished.  Murder cases are notoriously long."

"Alright, alright!  Whatever.  Are you going to come out here or not?"

"I don't know.  My plans have been shot to hell."

"So what am I supposed to do?  Hang out on the beach in case you decide to show up?  I can't get in to the fancy beach house without you.  If we had just gone to the Jersey Shore like I—”

"I'm not going to the fucking Jersey Shore."

"Fine, you snob.  But here we are.  Except you're in Manhattan and I'm locked out of the damn house!"

"Look I'll call the realtor and—”

"Don't bother.  I'm not staying if you're not coming out here.  I'd rather spend my night in Brooklyn at an unpretentious bar talking with a hot chick who's actually, you know, at the same place as me at the same time."

"Oh, so that's your solution?  I can't be there so you'll just fuck the closest warm body?"

"Jesus Christ who said anything about fucking?  You always assume the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, it's a habit in my line of work."

"Yeah, your line of work.  That's another problem."

"I don't have time for this.  I'll call you later, okay?"

"Later tonight?  Later tomorrow?  Later next month?"

"Whatever works for you.  Or should I say your voicemail since that's all I ever get when I do call."

"Whatever.  I hope you get the verdict you want," Dean bit out.

"Thank you," Cas snapped.

"I miss you, you little shit."

Cas leaned his forehead against the wall wearily.  He almost said, _I need you_.  Because he really did.

"I miss you too.  I'll call you tonight."

"Okay."

Cas dropped the hand that was holding the phone and continued to lean against the wall.  It was the worst Catch 22.  He needed Dean because he could melt his stress, but not being able to be with Dean was his number one source of stress.  And unhappiness.  Dating Dean was a miserable experience because he could never be with him.  They had gone over two months this time since they'd seen each other in person.  It was a new record.  And they'd called and texted each other less and less because every time they talked they tended to fight.

Cas was determined to change that.  For better or worse the Gallagher case was ending today.  If Andy needed appeals, which seemed likely considering the quick turnaround of the jury, he could hire him independently.  But he was quitting after this case no matter how Uriel tried to intimidate him.  Once he was free of his job, he'd be able to be with Dean.  And maybe he could help him with his psychological recovery.  Things would be better.  All he had to do was get through this court decision, and then the sentencing, and clear a few more cases off his desk, and line up a lawyer in case Uriel sued him for breach of contract, and he'd be free.  Cas groaned and let his face smoosh against the wall.  It was so simple.  What could go wrong?

Cas didn't have time to dwell on his relationship problems.  Sooner than the laws of physics seem to dictate was possible, his thirty minute window was gone and he was combing Hannah's hair down into some semblance of control while she straightened his tie.  They looked in each other's eyes and inhaled deeply.  It was entirely possible what was about to happen was going to suck.  Very hard.

"Okay," Hannah whispered to him as they made their way to the defendants' table.  "So, worst case scenario is they both go down for murder, and best case is we caused enough doubt in the case that they both go free."

"Right.  I wish we could have extracted Andy from all of this, but linking his case to that psycho's was our only choice."

"I know.  We did the right thing, Castiel.  It's more important to save an innocent life."

Cas nodded, taking reassurance from her confident tone.  They made it to the table just in time to greet Andy and shake hands with Weems' lawyer.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Mills," the bailiff called out in a strong baritone.

Everyone stood and waited for the judge to make her way to the bench.  Castiel actually had the urge to reach out and hold Andy’s and Hannah’s hands, but he figured that would be a little unprofessional.  Plus he wasn’t certain either would be receptive to it; it wouldn’t be the first time he had misread a social cue.  After the judge was in place, they took their seats and the jury filed in.  There was a background buzz of hushed voices as the gallery tried to pretend like they weren’t talking.  There were quite a few cameras and press in the gallery as well.  Ordinarily this kind of case wouldn’t generate too much media attention, but the bizarre twist of long lost twins made people interested.

“Madam Foreperson,” Judge Mills said in her dry, no-nonsense voice.  “Have you reached a verdict?”

“We have your honor.”

“Will the defendants please rise.”

Andy, Ansem, and their lawyers got to their feet.

“Madam Foreperson, what say you in the matter of the State versus Andrew Gallagher?”

“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant—”

Cas clenched his hands into fists.

“Not guilty.”

Cas, Hannah, and Andy all exhaled in relief.  That was the major charge, but there were a lot more to go.

“On the count of accessory to murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of kidnapping, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of conspiracy, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of obstruction, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of unlawful possession of a firearm, we find the defendant guilty.”

Cas unclenched his hands.  One count of unlawful possession of a firearm was nothing really.  He’d probably just get a fine for it.  The downside to all this good news was that Andy’s homicidal brother was going to get off scot-free.  He was still going to count this as a victory.

“Madam Foreperson, what say you in the matter of the State versus Ansem Weems?”

“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant guilty.”

Cas gave himself a slight shake, certain that he had misheard that.

“On the count of accessory to murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of kidnapping, we find the defendant guilty.  On the count of conspiracy, we find the defendant not guilty.  On the count of obstruction, we find the defendant guilty.  On the count of aggravated assault against a member of law enforcement, we find the defendant guilty.”

Judge Mills had to bang her gavel a couple of times to get the loud murmuring in the room to quiet down.

“Thank you, Madam Foreperson, and esteemed members of the jury for your service.  You are dismissed with the court’s thanks.  Bailiff, take Ansem Weems into custody.  His sentencing hearing will be scheduled for no later than two weeks from today.  Andrew Gallagher, for the guilty finding on unlawful possession of a firearm, you will be fined fifteen hundred dollars and sentenced to time served.  You are free to go.”

Andy went limp, and then he jumped up with a shout.  He threw his arms around Hannah and swung her around with a glad shout of thanks.  Then he hugged Castiel in a bone crushing embrace.

“Andy!” Ansem yelled as he was led out of the room.  “Come on, man!  You know I did it for you!  For us!”

Andy kept his back to the man and stared at the floor until his shouting was cut off by a closing door.  Then he looked up at Hannah and Castiel again.

“I can’t thank you enough.  You two were amazing.  I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.”

“We’re glad justice was served today,” Hannah said, patting his arm.  “So how about we buy you a beer?”

“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” Andy said with a laugh.

“And you’re not going to jail.”

“Good point.  Let’s drink!”

Cas grinned and nodded his agreement.  Of the handful of times he’d been drinking before noon, this was by far the best reason he’d ever had.

~~~

Castiel dropped his briefcase on the floor of his apartment and let his jacket slip off too.  He crashed onto his couch and dug his cell phone out of his pants pocket.  He was drunk.  He was horny.  And it was entirely possible his boyfriend was still stranded in the Hamptons.  He wasn’t even sure what time it was, only that he had been out with Hannah, Andy, and several other employees from Finnerman who had joined them in their drunken revelry for hours.

Cas put his phone on video and recorded his face while he opened the fly of his pants with one hand.

“Dean.  Guess what?  The case is over.  I want you here.  Want to know why?”

He pushed the reverse icon on the camera display so it was now recording his hand pulling out his engorged cock—the head flushed red and wet with precome.

“Because I want to fuck you.  You see this?  Going straight into your hot, tight little hole.”

Cas pumped his erection in one hand.

“You’re so tight, you know that, baby?  Make me feel like I’m fucking some sweet, young virgin.  You like role play?  I’d love to pretend I was your first.  Wouldn’t you like that, Dean?  I’d treat you so good your first time.  Touch you gently, spread you like warm butter.  Haa…Then I’d eat you out, babe.  I’d fuck my tongue so good in your ass you’d be crying with the pleasure.  Then pop your cute little cherry.  Completely bareback, babe.  Just my cock and your hole.  And then I’d fill you up with my come.  So deep, Dean.  I’d come so deep inside you, you would taste it.”

Cas jerked his dick harder and suddenly he was coming, his will power completely shot by his drunkenness.  He panted and grunted and moaned Dean’s name over and over.  Then he turned the camera back around.

“That was fun,” he said with a giggle.  “Deeeeeeeeeean.  Come here.”  He giggled again.  “ _Come_.”

Then he ended the recording and concentrated very hard to make sure he only sent it to Dean.  Then he passed out.

~~~

Castiel woke to the sharp trill of his cell phone ringer and a pounding headache.

“Fuck me.”

He ignored the phone and rolled off his couch.  He stood up and made his way to the kitchen for water and aspirin.  On the way, he noticed something felt odd.  He glanced down and saw that his dick was bouncing around outside his fly, and that his expensive pants were covered in dried semen.

“Shit.”

He decided not to deal with that at the moment and merely undid his belt and dropped the pants altogether, tucking himself back into his underwear.  He popped three pills and drank two full glasses of water.  His cell phone was ringing again.  Or maybe it had never stopped.  He trudged back into the living room with the intent to turn it off completely and then go to bed.  It was dark out, though that didn’t necessarily mean it was late since it was mid February.  When he picked up the phone he saw he had several missed calls.  Surprisingly not all of them were from Dean.

He tapped the screen to call Dean and continued his shuffle to his bedroom.  Dean picked up on the first ring.  He’d probably been the one who had been calling him most recently.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”  His voice sounded rough.  Well, rougher than usual.

“So.  You been drinking?”

“Little bit,” Cas replied as he flopped onto his bed.

“I guess the verdict wasn’t so great then.”

“No…”  Cas struggled to flip onto his back so he could talk.  “No, it was good.  Perfect.  Andy was freed and his brother went to jail.  It had never even crossed my mind that something that good would happen.  The drinking was in celebration.”

“Ah.  I guess the horniness makes more sense now.”

“The ho—oh, God.”  Cas put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.  “Please don’t tell me that dream about sending you a sex tape was real.”

“Very real, Cas.  Though the video was mostly focused on the ceiling.”

Cas exhaled in relief.  “I only sent it to you though, right?”

“You know, I would torment you, but you sound terrible.  Yeah, it only went to me.  I had no idea you had such a virgin kink.”

Cas groaned and Dean laughed softly.

“Wait,” Cas said suddenly.  “Where are you?”

There was a pause which made Cas wince.

“I went home.”

“Oh, good.  Well, not good.  But, I’m glad you’re not sitting alone outside the beach house.”

“Yeah, no, I left right after our last call.”

Cas grimaced remembering their last call.

“I’m sorry I was so short with you,” Cas said.

“You were busy.”

“Yes, but still.  I should have taken the time to call you and tell you I wasn’t going to be able to make it.”

“It’s fine, Cas.  It doesn’t matter.”

Cas’ brows creased.  “It doesn’t?”

Dean cleared his throat.  “So, you got the verdict you wanted, huh?  That’s good.  That means—”

“Yes!  It’s very good.  Dean…I had lost so much faith in the system.  But today…we were able to defend the innocent and punish the wicked.  And I know that sounds so histrionic, but it was _real_ , Dean.  It happened.  Everyone had written Andy off as a killer.  No one wanted his case.  He was going to have to go with some inexperienced public defender.  But it felt good to take on the risk for a good cause—and it paid off.  Because the system works.”

There was a very long pause on the other end.  Cas pulled the phone away from his ear to see if they were still connected.  He put it back to his ear.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.  Yeah.  I’m still here.  So, uh, it sounds like you’re not…looking to quit any time soon.”

It was Cas’ turn to be silent.  It had been a long time since he’d been excited about his job.  Since he’d felt good about the work that he did.

“Well…I think…I do want to continue to be a defense attorney.  But, I can find a different firm.  Or open my own practice.”

“If you do the latter I’ll see even less of you than I do now.”

“I—it’s just that this job requires a lot of—”

“I know what it requires, Cas.  I’ve experienced it.  We both know the toll it takes on you.  On us.  I think we both know that the job and the relationship can’t coexist.”

Cas sat up, his chest tightening with dread, but he was also hot with anger.

“Don’t put all this on me.  Your job isn’t a picnic either.  We didn’t even see each other over Christmas because you were putting out Christmas tree fires every day.  And you know what?  My job may take a lot of time, but when I go to court, you don’t have to sit, petrified, that I won’t come out alive.  I know it’s a noble job, Dean, but I hate it.  I hate that you do it.  I hate that you do something so dangerous.  I can’t—every time I get a phone call from an unknown number I wonder if it’s the hospital or the morgue.  The first time I got the call in the hospital that you were hurt—it felt like my world had tipped upside down.  And I barely knew you then.  Now…if something were to happen…and with you still being so scared about going inside—”

“I’m not _scared_.”

“You know what I mean.  You’re still traumatized.”

“Christ, I’m not traumatized.  Stop trying to make me sound like an assault victim or something.”

“You told me you still get that panicky feeling when you hear a large fire.  You said—”

“That was weeks ago, Cas.  You don’t know what’s going on now.”

“Then tell me!  What is going on?  Are you better?  The same?  Worse?”

He heard Dean make some sort of derisive noise.  “Does it matter?”

“Of course!  Dean—”

“Look, Cas, we’ve gotta talk about the real problem here.”

Cas clenched his jaw.  “And what is the ‘real’ problem?”

“We’re not dating.  We’re just fuck buddies.  And we see each other so little that we’re barely even that.  All we do is fight about how the other is too busy to make time to see one or the other.  I mean, if we were serious about this, don’t you think we would make the time?  No matter what?”

“But I—”

_I love you._

“I do want to make the time.  I just…can’t.”

“No one is making you work those hours, Cas.  Not really.”

“And no one is making you risk your life every day either.  But here we are.”

“Here we are.”

Cas didn’t know what to say.  Apparently neither did Dean.  The empty seconds stretched out into minutes.  They remained on the phone, not talking, just breathing.  And trying not to think about the inevitable conclusion to this conversation.  At last, Cas’ headache became too much to ignore.  If he was going to be in physical pain, might as well throw emotional in and get it all over with at once.

“So.  This isn’t working.”

He spoke very softly and Dean replied just as quietly.

“No, I don’t think it is.”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet again.  As long as they didn’t hang up, it wasn’t really over, Cas supposed.

“Cas, look…I don’t want…I think it’s the only thing that makes sense for us.”

“But is it a mistake?”

He could hear Dean shrug over the phone.  “Maybe.  But staying together when we’re not together feels like a mistake too.”

“Can we still…talk?”

Dean hesitated.  “Yeah, of course.”

Cas knew that meant “No.”

He put a hand to his face and was surprised when he felt the warm wetness of tears on his palm.  He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying.  He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t.  So he just tried to mask the sounds of his sniffling.

“Cas, please don’t cr—um, look.”  Dean cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice sounded strained.  “I’ve gotta run.  Work.  Of course.  So, uh…take care.”

“Yeah.  You too.” Cas’ voiced cracked on the last word and he shut his eyes, embarrassed that Dean had to hear him like this.

“Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, De—”

Cas realized Dean had already hung up.

~~~

Two weeks later Castiel stood looking out over the view of downtown New York he had from the large windows of his corner office.  With his high profile success with both the Sands and Gallagher cases, he’d received a hefty bonus, a new office, and was up for senior partner.  The vote was in another month, but it was pretty much a formality.  Only Marv would even consider voting against him.

So this was it: he’d accomplished great things, he was making a fortune, he was gaining more control so he wouldn’t have to take on cases he didn’t want to anymore, and he felt confident in his work again.  So why exactly was it that he was so miserable?

A sharp knock at the door pulled his attention away from the beautiful and ugly vista that was New York City.  Only one person knocked like that.  Cas walked to stand in front of his desk and then sat on the edge of it.

“Come in,” he said.

Uriel opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him.  Like his previous office, this one had no windows to the interior of the building, so with the door shut they had complete privacy.  Uriel walked to within a couple feet of Cas and put one hand in a pocket.

“Settling into the new office?”

“Yes.  It’s very nice.  I hope Marv didn’t mind switching with me,” he said knowing full well Marv had minded quite a bit.

Uriel shrugged elegantly.  “You’re going to be senior partner soon, and you’ve more than pulled your weight around here recently.  You’ve earned it.  I can’t say the same for him.”

“He was wrapped up in that defamation case.  He won millions for the client, and for us.”

“Okay, I like you better.”

Cas was forced to smile a little at that.  “Thanks.”

“So.  I haven’t received any letters of resignation from you.  And you’ve agreed to be considered for senior partner.  Can I take all this to mean that you’re over your little mid-life crisis and will be staying at The Finnerman Firm?”

Cas ran his tongue over his teeth.  “Yeah.  I’m staying.”

“Anything in particular make you change your mind?”

Cas felt that tightness in his chest he got whenever he thought about Dean.  It was a struggle, but he managed not to let the impulse to get upset overtake him like it did when he was alone.

“I broke up with my boyfriend.”

Uriel let out a small sound that may have been a laugh.  Cas brought his eyes up to meet his, frowning.

“You said you wouldn’t rub my face in it.”

“I said I wouldn’t do it much.”

Cas shook his head and dropped his eyes.  “Please, Uriel.  Don’t—”

Cas sucked in a sharp breath when Uriel’s firm grip on his chin was swiftly followed by his full, demanding lips pressing against his.  He was so stunned by the suddenness of it that Uriel managed to press close and kiss him deeply.  He pulled his head back when he felt the first teasing stroke of tongue.

“Wait, please.”

Uriel ran a hand down his back, kissing his cheek as he kept his forehead pressed to Cas’ temple.

“Wait for what, Cas?  I’ve been very patient with you.”

“Uriel.  It’s been two weeks.  I’m not ready.”

Uriel pulled back and made them make eye contact.

“You’ll always make excuses, Cas.  You and I—we may not be a perfect match, but you know we work better together than with anyone else.”

Cas tilted his head and looked at Uriel with pained confusion.  “Is that really enough for you?”

Uriel brushed a thumb along Cas’ cheek.  “That’s your problem, Cas: you believe in fairy tales.  Your father instilled in you this desire to just keep waiting because something good might happen.  Both you and Jess are like that.  Raphael was able to convince her that what’s in front of her is better than some far off impossible dream.  Why can’t I do the same for you?”

Cas parted his lips, not sure what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter because Uriel kissed him again.  And he felt…guilty.  But why?  He couldn’t cheat on someone he wasn’t dating.  Uriel hugged him close and deepened the kiss again, easily maneuvering Castiel to where he wanted him.  After several long moments, Uriel pulled back, searching Cas’ eyes.  When Cas didn’t pull away, he started to lean forward again.  Just before their lips touched Cas whispered, “I just need more time.  Please.”

Uriel pulled back, exhaling with mild annoyance.  He released Cas and stepped away from him.  Cas swallowed and kept his eyes on the floor.  He felt like he was going to need eons to get over Dean Winchester.

“There’s a new case that’s come in,” Uriel said, his voice not cold, but distant.  “Cecily O’Brien was found murdered in her office earlier this week.”

Cas tensed and clenched his jaw.  “She worked for Josie Sands, right?”

“She did.”

“Are we defending Sands again?” he asked, looking up with anger in his eyes.

“No.  One of her underlings.”

Cas shook his head and looked away.  “Didn’t I tell you that there was no ‘one and done’ when it came to Abaddon?”

“You’re not to use that moniker while working this case, Castiel.  Your client is waiting for you down at the third precinct.”

“I thought senior partners had the discretion to turn down cases.”

“You’re not senior partner yet.  And it’s not guaranteed.”

Cas looked up, startled that Uriel was implying he would take away his promotion.  He sneered at Uriel’s hard, angry look.

“But if I were to bend over and let you fuck me across my desk I’d get that promotion today, right?”

Uriel remained calm.  “What have I told you about offering sexual favors in exchange for advancement here?”

“Fuck off, Uriel.  I’m not in the mood today.”

“I noticed.”

Cas rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You’re expected at the precinct within the hour.”

Cas kept his eyes focused on a faded coffee stain on the carpet.  He heard his office door open and close.

“ _Fuck_.”


	9. The Rescue

Dean lay in the twin bed with one hand behind his head, one resting on his stomach, and his feet crossed at the ankles.  As he stared at the metal framework of the high ceilings of the fire station, his ears were filled with the moping crying of Air Supply.  He knew he had the power to change that with the single press of a button on his pink (thank you very much, Sam) iPod, but he just couldn’t be bothered.  He found that lately he was really lacking energy.  He’d blame it on the break up, but that had been close to three months ago.  And after he’d broken up with Cas, he’d become _more_ entrenched in his workouts, stretching and exerting himself to prove that his legs were there because they hurt after every session.  So he couldn’t blame this lethargy on Cas.  Well, he supposed he could.

Just like he blamed Cas for his continued hesitance to enter large buildings on runs.  Cas was the one who had pointed out that he was traumatized and not better.  If he’d not acknowledged it he might have been able to ignore it and then just simply forget all about it.

He’d had to tell Bobby.  Not the whole truth, but enough.  He was still allowed to go on runs, but he was usually left outside with the truck.  He’d been able to go in during a couple of house fires, but the apartment buildings and warehouses—he just couldn’t do it.  He’d get a paradoxical phantom pain and numbness in his legs, and then he would just freeze.  He wasn’t going to be able to keep that up forever.  Everyone would find out the whole truth eventually and he’d be politely asked to retire.  And then set up with some head doctor who would want to talk about his mother.

But maybe retiring wouldn’t be so bad.  He could do something else with his life, which was an odd sentiment to have since fighting fires and saving lives had been his primary mission for his entire adult life.  It was all that had ever given him a real sense of purpose and even belonging.  Why did it suddenly not seem so important anymore?  He did realize that his feelings about the job had changed around the same time that someone had told him he was petrified when Dean went on runs.  Suddenly having to contrast his sense of duty with causing someone pain was something he had to worry about.  Sam got it.  He couldn’t remember their mother, but he understood Dean and could accept the risks.  Cas…

Dean scowled.  Why was he still letting Cas affect his mood and decisions?  He’d chosen his job over Dean.  Well, Dean supposed he’d chosen his job over Cas too.  Either way, it was over because they couldn’t make it work.  Didn’t want to try hard enough to make it work.  That had to mean that they didn’t mean that much to each other.  What a pain that his psyche wasn’t letting that factoid sink in.  He was giving himself another couple of weeks—months—to get over it, and then he was going to forget he’d ever met the guy.  Or just chalk him up to a couple of kinky encounters.  Until those two months were up though, he was…

_All out of love, I'm so lost without you, I know you were right, believing for so long…_

“…I'm all out of love, what am I without you, I can't be too late to say I was so wrong!”

Dean started as something grabbed his foot.  His eyes snapped open to see Benny looking at him with a very amused expression on his face.  Dean pulled on the center wire of his headphones and the ear buds popped out.  Had he been singing out loud?

“Y-yeah?”

“Chow time, brother.”

“Oh.  Thanks.  I’ll be right down.”

Benny’s smirk stayed in place, but he didn’t say anything as he left to walk down the stairs.  Dean sighed heavily and wrapped the headphones around the iPod.  He left it on his pillow and pulled on his boots before clomping downstairs to join the other occupants of the station.  Most were on duty and a couple were on call, but they always ate together when they could.  It had been Benny’s turn to cook and that was always a good night.  He was probably the best chef in the firehouse.  Although in another life, Dean thought he could take him.  ([X](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1074258))

They were halfway through their meal when Vic, who was supposed to be off duty for the next three days burst into the kitchen.  He found the remote on the counter and began flipping through channels on the old tube TV that hung in the corner of the room.

“Vic, what’s up?” Dean asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“There’s been an explosion.”

They all immediately focused their attention on the news reporter standing several blocks away from what looked like an entire city block that was on fire with smoke and ash floating all around her.

 _“—downtown at one-fifteen this afternoon.  There appeared to be several small explosions, followed by a much larger one twenty minutes later_.”

“Is that near city hall?” Garth asked.

“Yeah,” Victor confirmed.  “The explosions went off around the courthouses near the end of the line of the six train.  They’re not sure if the explosions were in the subway tunnels or inside the buildings.”

Bobby came back into the room with a radio in his hand; Dean hadn’t even noticed he’d left.

“I just got word that most of the Manhattan firehouses are responding, but that the site covers several city blocks.  A lot of the uptown stations are blocked by traffic.  We’re close enough to the bridge to get called in as a secondary.”

“Is this another 9/11 kind of thing?” Gordon asked with a dark look in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Victor said. “There’s been—”

“Wait, shut up,” Dean cut in.  “Turn that up.”

Victor turned up the volume on the TV.  Behind the reporter a large white building was belching thick black smoke from windows in which orange flames licked though the blown out glass.

“— _saying that the Black Eyed Mafia is claiming responsibility for these attacks.  If you recall, through the joint efforts of the NYPD and the DA’s office, the Black Eyed Mafia was supposedly dismantled a year ago when all of its top members were arrested.  However, the group is back and claiming new leadership under the suspected terrorist Abaddon the Destroyer aka Josie Sands.  Authorities say_ —”

Dean stopped listening.  That was the woman Cas had gotten out of jail.  He felt an unpleasant squirming sensation in his belly and his body was shaking.  He wondered if he was feeling angry about the fact that Cas had helped free that psychopath.  Then he realized he was just worried that Cas would be devastated when he found out.

“That’s it!” Bobby yelled.  "We got the call!”

He ran to the doorway and punched the alarm manually, setting off the loud klaxons of the station.  They all jumped to action, even those on call, and suited up in less than one minute and were rolling out of the station in two fully manned trucks in less than two minutes.

The roads were mostly clear as they made their way to the Brooklyn Bridge.  They had some trouble maneuvering through the backed up traffic that had been stopped from entering the city, but they were still on the scene in just a little over twenty minutes.  Bobby conferred with the fire chiefs who were taking point while the rest of the crew familiarized themselves with the blueprints for the buildings.  They ignored the shouts from the line of news reporters who were leaning over the barriers several yards away, trying to get any bit of news they could to scoop their competition.

Dean did one last check over his air tank and gas mask, mentally walking himself though the blueprint hallways to keep his mind off the burning line of buildings just off to his right.  His legs were starting to feel funny.  He looked up when he thought he heard his name.  He almost thought it was his imagination when he heard it again.  He scanned the line of people at the barrier, and someone stood a head above the rest of the crowd.  Dean jogged over to his brother.  The press swarmed toward his location and Sam got jostled back.

“What can you tell us—”

“Nothing,” Dean snapped.  “I just got here.  You know more than me.  What is it Sam?  Why are you here?”

Sam pushed forward again.  “I came downtown to have lunch with Jess.”

Dean’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the reminder than Sam and Jess were apparently having no trouble dating each other.  He lived in constant fear of the day that he would have to attend a family dinner and see Cas again.  He knew it would be terrible.  They’d be awkward around each other, probably fuck in a closet somewhere, attempt to try dating again only to have it blow up in their faces even worse than before, and then force their siblings to spend the holidays with only one of them at a time.

“We were standing a few blocks away and I saw your company’s trucks arrive.”

“Come on, Sam.  What have I told you about being a spectator at these kinds of things?  Take Jessica home and watch on TV where it’s safe.”

“I would, but she won’t leave.”

“Don’t tell me she’s looking for a case or two.”

“Dean,” Sam said, but was apparently too distracted to give a real bitchface.  “She won’t leave because the district courthouse was hit.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, Cas was scheduled to appear in court there today.”

Something thumped painfully against his chest and Dean realized it was his heart trying to restart.

“What?” he asked, but it barely came out as a whisper.

“She doesn’t know what time.  It’s possible it was in the morning or he hadn’t even arrived yet.  But, he’s not answering his cell phone and he’s not at Finnerman.”

Dean tried to shake off the jittery feeling that was crawling along his skin, but that was only making the tremble in his fingers worse.

“Okay.  Thanks, Sam.  Keep Jess safe.  I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“Hey, you be careful too.  Don’t do anything you're not ready—”

Dean gave him a look.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I never do.”

It was Sam’s turn to give him a look.

“On the job.  I never do anything stupid on the job.  I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

One of the reporters turned to Sam with a frown.  “What paper are you from?”

Dean left the crowd behind and picked up his equipment.  He followed his team toward one of the flaming buildings.  He didn’t even know which it was.  He suited up and stood at the ready as the fire chiefs organized the first, second, and third waves.  Bobby put a hand on his shoulder.

“Dean, you can stay back if you need to.”

Dean pulled his eyes off the flames and met Bobby’s eyes straight on.

“I’m fine.”  And he was.  There was no fear.  No sense of numbness.  Only determination to save lives.  Even if that motivation came from the desire to save one life in particular.

“Son, it’s okay—”

“Bobby, I’m good.  I’m ready.”

“Why now all of a sudden?”

Dean knew his only chance of getting into the building was to not lie.  Not that he could lie to Bobby anyway.

“Someone I know might be in there.  And I need to do everything I can to help this mission succeed.”

“Someone you know?  All the more reason to stay out of it.  Dean, there are confirmed reports of bodies.  Lots of bodies.”

Dean swallowed and ignored that piece of information.  “Bobby.  I have to go in there.  I’m good.  I’m ready.”

Dean kept up the eye contact, his heart beating steadily if a little rapidly with adrenaline.  His blood felt like cool, soothing ice in his veins.  His mind was clear.  His body was strong.  Bobby looked back, clearly worried, but finally he huffed out a grunt.

“Alright, ya idjit,” he said gruffly.  “But you go in there, you are coming back out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a direct order Station Four!  You go in there, you come back out!”

“Yes, sir!” the group chorused.

“Wave two!”  The head fire chief yelled over the chaotic scene around them.  “Companies seven and nine, Brooklyn Four and Nineteen!  To the left, enter slow.  Sweep and report.  Search and recovery.  This is a rescue mission.  Only impede flames if it keeps you moving and your exit clear.  Now, move, move, move!”

Brooklyn Fire House Four moved as one, heading to a side entrance with the other Brooklyn company.  They waited for the advance party to clear the side entrance before they all moved inside.  Dean partnered with Victor and they were sent off to the lower levels of the building.  Dean didn’t protest.  He knew if Cas was here more than likely he would be upstairs in the courtrooms, but he saw signs for the offices of filing clerks at the bottom of the stairs which meant it wasn’t impossible for him to be down here.

Dean shook himself to try to keep focus and not get lost in the fantasy of finding and rescuing Cas.  For one thing he wasn’t even sure which building he was in.  He might be in the Supreme Court building rather than the district courthouse.  His mission was to search for victims and bring them to safety, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted.

After thirty minutes, he and Victor had cleared the way through only a small portion of the smoke filled basement.  It was a little disconcerting not to have come across the source of the smoke, but a fire had to be raging somewhere to produce the thick grey fog they moved through.  They’d come across a couple of bodies, but thankfully the halls were mostly empty.  Hopefully the people on this level had had a chance to evacuate because the smoke was too thick for anyone to survive.  Their earpieces crackled as Bobby’s voice came over the radio.

“All teams report location and progress.”

Dean listened to the company's report of finding mostly bodies and having difficulty clearing rubble in basically zero visibility.  His and Victor's report wasn’t any better.

“Make your way back out, teams.  If it seems possible to cover new ground on the way out, take it to look for survivors.  Otherwise, take the path you’ve already cleared and rendezvous at the trucks for water and rest before we try again.”

The other teams replied with confirmation and if they were going to attempt a new path out.  Dean turned to Victor.  He was hard to see with nothing but the lights on their helmets illuminating the hallways.  He signaled down a hallway they hadn’t cleared yet, which according to the blueprints they’d seen would make a small circle back to the path they had cleared.  They might as well take it on the off chance someone needed help.

As they made their way through the corridors, they found themselves getting closer to the initial blast site.  The ceiling had fallen down in some places and one wall was bowing dangerously out into the hallway.  If it gave way, it would completely block the narrow hallway.  They were turning the last corner that would lead them back to known territory when Dean heard it.  He glanced at Victor and he gave a nod of his head, indicating he had also heard what could have been a human voice.  Dean stayed back as Victor approached the door to a women’s bathroom that was adjacent to the buckled wall.  If it collapsed, Dean should be far enough away that he would be free to help dig Victor out.

Victor knocked on the door and called out, “FDNY, step back from the door.”

He gingerly pushed on the door, applying more pressure gradually until he had the door open and could step through.  He propped it open with a trashcan and Dean moved closer to peer inside.  He blinked at the sudden source of natural light from the narrow windows that lined the wall above the bathroom stalls.  A woman in a pantsuit was stuck halfway out of one of the windows.  Probably the only reason she was still alive was because her head was outside where she could get some fresh air even as the smoke poured out around her.  Although she would probably die from blood loss before smoke inhalation.  She had broken the window to get it open and had cut herself trying to wiggle out.  Long, wide rivulets of blood trailed down the white walls.

Victor called out to her again and told her they there to help even as she screamed that she needed help.  Dean’s eyes shifted to the buckling wall as he heard a creaking sound.  He told Victor calmly that he might want to speed things up.  Victor quickly pulled out the spare mask attached to his oxygen tank and kept it handy as he coaxed the woman into understanding her best bet was to try to come back inside the building.  The windows led to an interior courtyard; if she went that way she would be trapped in a circle of burning and collapsing buildings without medical aid.

Finally she agreed to back out and Victor sent Dean a look that said he hoped the FDNY wasn’t going to get sued right before he used his hands to squash her bosom down so she could slide back through the window.  As soon as she was inside, he put the oxygen mask over her face and carried her with an arm around the waist out of the stall and through the door.  Once she was back on her feet she looked down at the gash in her stomach and started panicking.  Victor wadded up the tatters of the lower portion of her shirt and pressed it against the wound, holding it firmly in place.  She winced and held onto his arm like a lifeline.

The wall groaned again and Dean nodded to Victor.  He kept his hand pressed tightly to the woman’s stomach and started to guide her to their cleared path.  As they passed it, Dean glanced at the men’s room door.  He saw a tiny sliver of natural light coming from underneath the door only in one corner.  There was something blocking the door.  He radioed Victor to wait a moment.  He bent to investigate and found that some sort of cloth had been stuffed in the crack—a sign that someone was trapped inside.  It didn’t feel like it was attached to a body.

“I think someone’s in here.”

“Check it out we’ll wait.”

“No, please!” the woman cried behind her mask.  “Please, I want to leave.”

“It’s okay," Dean, said.  “Go ahead.  I’m just going to check the stalls and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you kidding?  No way, Winchester.”

The woman started crying harder and gasping as her panic worsened.

“Fifteen seconds, I promise.  But she needs help.”

Victor looked furious behind his mask, but Dean didn’t wait for a response.  He pushed forcefully against the door in case the fabric would lodge and block its movement.  It opened easily, but the wall cracked and pushed out.  Dean froze, his heart pounding in his chest.  It hadn’t collapsed, not yet, but it was only a matter of time now.  He glanced back and saw that Victor had left with the woman, so he hurried inside to keep his fifteen second promise.  He pushed the doors on the stalls open as he made his way down, finding them empty.  Above the handicap stall he saw that the window had been broken creating a vent through which smoke was being pulled like a winding, poisonous snake.  Dean pulled on the door to look inside.

He started in surprise when he saw a body slumped in the corner.  He’d been expecting the stall to be empty and seeing a person rattled his nerves.  For a moment he was a civilian, unsure of what to do.  Then his years of training and experience overrode his shock and he stepped inside the stall and knelt next to the body.  He grabbed the person by the shoulders to roll him over to see if he was still alive.  The man’s face was grimy and his eyes barely cracked open since he was near unconsciousness, but Dean would know that face and those beautiful blue irises anywhere.

“Cas!  Cas!  Castiel!”

Cas’ eyes fluttered again and Dean fumbled with the spare oxygen mask.  His body was jangling with panic and alarm and fear and despair.  His brain kept screaming _Save him, save him!_ over and over again.  His hands were shaking as he managed to get the mask over Cas’ face and start the flow of oxygen.  Cas’ eyes shot open at the sudden burst of clean air and then he began to cough.  Dean held him while the coughing wracked his body.  He rubbed his back and tried to be calming so that Cas could try to get the coughing under control.  Dean spoke soothingly to him, but his voice sounded distorted and distant through the mask.  Cas looked up at him.  His eyes widened in recognition, and he reached out with a hand.  Then he started to slip back into unconsciousness as the adrenaline wore off.

“Hey, stay with me, angel.  Come on.”

Dean helped Cas to his feet and supported most his weight as they made their way out of the bathroom.  They’d taken two steps through the door when the wall gave way.  Most of it collapsed to their left, but the ceiling came down with it.  Dean threw himself toward the cleared hallway, covering Cas' body with his.  He curled up as drywall and ceiling tiles and chunks of concrete fell around them.  There was the loud groan of metal being stretched beyond its limits and then a grating pop followed by the loud spray of highly pressurized water.

Dean glanced over his shoulder and saw that the wall had exposed the pipes leading to the bathrooms and a few were ruptured, shooting geysers of water over the pile of rubble and him and Cas.  He assessed himself first to make sure he didn’t have any injuries.  Then he started checking on Cas, which was growing increasingly difficult as the man squirmed and struggled and tore at the mask on his face.  Dean understood why when he saw the rubber tubing of Cas’ mask to the oxygen tank had been severed.  Dean cursed and turned off the flow so it was no longer pumping uselessly into the atmosphere.  He threw off his helmet and took in a deep breath and held it before ripping off his gas mask.  He shoved it onto Cas’ face hard enough to create a seal and Cas breathed deeply again.

Dean pulled Cas out of the debris that had fallen on them and helped him stand on wobbly feet.  He made eye contact and tried to pantomime breathing deep and holding his breath without actually doing it.  Cas understood though and inhaled deeply from the mask.  Dean took his turn breathing and started hauling Cas out of the hallway.  He picked up his helmet and set it precariously on his head.  Once they turned the corner from the collapsed hallway, the tiny light on top of it was all the light they had.

After five steps, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask back on Cas’ face.  Five more paces and he put it back on his.  His arm was starting to protest holding up so much of Cas’ weight since it was crooked out at an awkward angle.  Cas stumbled over his own feet and nearly brought them both down.  Dean inhaled deeply and transferred the mask back to Cas, taking a moment to stop and think.  He checked the walls for the marks he and Victor had made.  The marks were there; they weren’t lost.  But he had no idea how much farther they had to go before they reached the stairs that led up to the ground level.  And how was he going to get Cas upstairs?  The simple truth was that he was out of shape.  Despite overexerting himself, he hadn’t worked back up to his full exercise regimen again after his injury.

He glanced down at Cas.  His eyes were barely open in thin slits, but he could tell that he was conscious if a little fuzzy.  He nodded his head, indicating Dean could take the mask back.  Dean put it back on and hauled Cas down the long corridor, determined to go as far and as fast as he could.  He kept moving even when he gave the mask back to Cas.  He pushed on, feeling his lungs burning, desperately needing oxygen to sustain the work he was making his body do.  He chanced taking a breath of the air without the mask.  It was only a little smoke, right?

It was like breathing water.  The smoke must be getting thicker and he still didn’t know how that was possible without an identifiable source of fire.  He quickly pulled the mask away from Cas’ face, causing him to inhale the air and start coughing.  Dean breathed quickly and dragged Cas’ wracking body around the corner.  Then he saw the sliver of light.  He sprinted for it, leaving the mask on his face for the five wide paces it took to reach the bottom of the flight of stairs that led to the outside entrance.  Cas was gasping—dying in his arms.  He looked up at the double flight of stone stairs.  They would never make it.

Dean put Cas down and put the mask on his face.  His breathing didn’t even out much, his lungs too clogged with soot and smoke.  Dean slid the oxygen tank off his back and tossed his helmet.  Then he shrugged out of his heavy fireman’s coat.  This time he gave Cas a warning before he took the mask away.  He put his arms around Cas’ waist and swung him up.  He should have laid his torso across his shoulders, putting the weight on his body rather than his arms, and leaving one hand free.  It was called a fireman’s carry for a reason after all.  But somehow when he swung Cas up into his arms, he held him in a princess carry and then took the stairs two at a time as he climbed toward daylight, fresh air, and safety.

His lungs started protesting the bad air a quarter of the way up.  His heart was thudding too hard by the time he reached the midway point.  His arms were fighting a losing battle to keep their hold on his precious cargo.  He was almost to the top when his legs wobbled—and gave out on him.  He crashed to his knees and bit back a cry of pain as his kneecaps connected with marble.  He looked at Cas; he looked unconscious.

Dean screamed in protest—at the situation, at his failing body, at everything that had brought him and Cas to this moment.  He surged to his feet with a burst of energy driven by fear and anger.  He staggered up the last couple of steps and across the small lobby, grateful the security equipment had been pushed aside earlier, clearing a path for him to the doors.

He pushed his way through the double doors, carrying Cas over the threshold like a bride.  He opened his mouth to try to call out for help as he carefully began to walk down the steps leading to the sidewalk.  Even though he could breathe again, his throat was too raw to speak.  Fortunately, Bobby spotted him and started shouting for the paramedics.  Dean was met by two men in blue uniforms, but rather than relinquish his hold on Cas, he followed the men to the ambulance.  Once Cas was securely on a gurney, he collapsed onto the ground by the back wheels.  He was vaguely aware that a third paramedic was trying to examine him, but his eyes were focused on Cas as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance and they started CPR on him.  He reached out a hand, but couldn’t make his voice work to ask to go with him.

“Can you take him too?” Dean heard Bobby saying to someone.  “He needs to be checked out.”

Dean moved his eyes toward Bobby.  It felt like he was sitting underwater.

“Don’t even try to argue with me,” Bobby said.  “I’m the chief and I make the final decisions of who can go back in and who needs to get checked out.”

Dean was confused for a moment.  Already his head was clearing with the fresh air.  Though the roar of a fire and screaming people weren’t doing much to help stave off the forming headache.  All he needed was five minutes with an oxygen tank and he would be good to stay on and help out, even if he didn’t go back inside.  No firefighter worth his salt would go to the hospital because of a little smoke.  Bobby arched a brow at him before he turned and walked away, and Dean understood.  He was letting him go with Cas and making it seem like it hadn’t been his choice to abandon the scene and his brothers.  The old softie.  Though he really shouldn’t be leaving Victor and the others behind.  He struggled to his feet, but Bobby was gone and the paramedics were barking at him to get in the ambulance because they needed to go now.

Dean stepped inside and moved to sit on one of the benches.  He was handed an oxygen mask and he secured it over his mouth and nose before focusing on Cas.  The ambulance doors slammed shut and almost instantaneously the vehicle lurched into motion, sirens wailing above them.  The paramedic had stopped performing CPR on Cas, and Dean was relieved to see it was because he was breathing on his own now and had regained consciousness.  More or less.  He still looked a little dazed behind his own gas mask.  One of the medics was currently drawing blood from his arm, presumably so he could check his carbon monoxide levels.

Cas’ eyes wandered confusedly over the ambulance ceiling, and then paused on the two medics.  He turned his head very slowly to the other side, his eyes following even slower.  Then he spotted Dean.  It took about three seconds, but then recognition flickered in the glassy orbs.  He raised an arm, fortunately not the one with the needle in it.  Dean took his hand in both of his and kissed his fingers before tucking the hand under his chin and looking down at Cas.

“Hey, angel.”

Cas sighed a reply that might have been words.  One of the paramedics looked between them, his eyebrows raised, but then he busied himself with cleaning some of the scrapes on Cas’ other arm.  He must have gotten them when the ceiling came down on top of them.

Cas tried speaking again, but Dean shushed him gently.  That just annoyed Cas and he tried again.

“Baby, I can’t understand you and you shouldn’t be talking.  We can talk later, okay?”

Cas used his other hand to weakly attempt to pull the mask off his face.  The paramedic forced him to leave it on and pushed his arm back down on the gurney.

“Dean…” Cas’ first audible word came out sharply.

Dean tilted his head slightly, showing he was annoyed that Cas was not obeying him or the paramedics, but also that he was willing to listen.

“Love you.”

Dean froze.  And then he realized those words weren’t really as scary as he’d always thought they were.

“Yeah, me too, just so you know,” Dean muttered.  “Guess we shouldn’t have broken up.”

Cas nodded and closed his eyes wearily.  Dean tensed for a moment, worrying they’d had some sort of terrible movie moment where Cas just died after they confessed their love for each other, but he was clearly still breathing.  The paramedics didn’t seem concerned that he had slipped under, so Dean managed to relax a tiny fraction.  He renewed his grip on Cas’ hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.  He was never going to let go of this hand again.

~~~

Dean was livid.  He did his best to keep it all internalized as he followed the nurse down the hall.  He didn't want to get kicked out before he had a chance to see Cas.  Yesterday after Cas had been admitted for treatment, Dean had been checked out, declared fit, and promptly forbidden from seeing Cas.  He'd had a fight with three nurses, a doctor, and eventually two security guards about how they were all assholes because if they were a heterosexual couple he would have been allowed to see his girlfriend.  The doctor assured him that it had nothing to do with discrimination and just the fact that they weren't married.  Dean had called bullshit on that, but eventually he'd had no choice but to allow himself to be escorted from the premises.  The doctor told him that he would be allowed to see Cas as soon as he was downgraded from the Intensive Care Unit.  Fortunately Cas had suffered no injuries and only needed to spend a few hours in a hyperbaric chamber to treat the carbon monoxide poisoning.  He was in a regular room now and allowed non-family member visitors.

The nurse indicated the room Cas was in, but Dean paused as he spotted Jess sitting in a chair across the hall.  He walked over to her and wasn't sure if he should bother her or not.  Her shoulders were hunched and she had her elbows on her thighs, her face in her hands.  Dean had made the nurse repeat several times that Cas was okay, so he was a little surprised to see Jess looking like she was still waiting to hear if her brother would live or die.

"Jess?" he said quietly.  Perhaps too quietly because she didn't look up.  He cleared his throat to try again, but Jess looked up before he could say her name again.

Her eyes were wet with tears and red from exhaustion.  Her face crumpled when she saw him and she stood quickly to throw her arms around Dean.  He hugged her back, feeling a little awkward.  He didn't know her that well, which was ridiculous since she was dating his brother and he'd dated hers for the better part of a year.

"Jess?  What's wrong?  The nurse said that Cas was okay...?  Did something happen...?"

Jess' head shook against his shoulder and then she sniffled.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asked

She was still for a moment and then shook her head.  Dean was a little out of his element.  He wasn't very good at comforting people he knew well let alone women who were virtual strangers.

"Where's my brother?" he asked, casting his eyes around for the man.

"He left to get me a change of clothes."

Dean nodded and patted her back.  "Do you think he'll be back soon?"  He winced a little at his own question.

Jess pulled back from the hug and did her best to give him a smile.

"He'll be back soon.  You should see Cas.  He's...not...taking any of this...well."

Dean nodded and rubbed her arms.  He thought about saying something else or giving her another hug, but she'd given him permission to go to Cas—and he had to go.  He walked over to Cas' door and considered knocking, but it was partially open, so he just pushed it wider and stepped over the threshold.

Castiel had his arms wrapped around himself, shivering in a thin hospital gown as he stood barefoot on the tile floor looking up at a TV monitor mounted in the corner of the room.  The remote was clenched tightly in one of his hands, tucked up almost completely under his armpit.  His eyes were focused on the images on the screen.  Dean tore his eyes away from the shocking sight of seeing Cas looking so small and helpless, and looked at the TV.

It was tuned to CNN and no less than five pundits were on the screen talking over each other as they asked questions of the "expert" they were speaking to on the phone while the downtown courthouses burned brightly in an inset video.  The footage was old.  The fires had been put out sometime after midnight and rescue efforts scaled back to a minimum until the sun came up again.  After being refused to be allowed to see Cas, Dean had returned to the scene worked through the night.  His company had been given a four hour break before they had to report back.  He'd showered at one of the Manhattan based company's fire station and changed into clothes that fit him pretty well for not belonging to him.  Rather than napping like his team members had opted to do, he'd spent the better part of an hour trying to make his way to the hospital when public transportation wasn't running and many roads had been closed off.  By the time he'd made it through the congested streets to the hospital he had thirty minutes before he had to be back on the scene to gear up so he would be ready when the four hour break was up.  He probably was going to be late, but seeing Cas as he was now, he couldn't be bothered to worry about that.

Cas' face was white, his expression pinched, and he looked like a strong breeze would knock him over.  His eyes were intently focused on the pundits as they talked about how more bodies than survivors were being recovered and why those buildings had been targeted and if the police had ignored warning signs that Abaddon the Destroyer and the Black Eyed Mafia were planning something so heinous.  Dean wouldn't classify himself as one of the greater thinkers of his generation, but it wasn't hard to figure out that Cas was looking at the carnage like he had somehow caused it himself.

The pundits continued to talk as the screen switched to a slideshow of pictures taken from the scene.  A couple were already being called "iconic" like the photo of a group of school children standing on the stairs of the State Supreme Court building as the first explosion went off somewhere behind them.  The children were calm, still oblivious to the destruction and mayhem that was about to descend on them.  The picture must have been taken in that split second between when the camera picked up the light from the explosion and the sound reached the children's ears.  It was a one in a billion shot, but Dean still didn't like how these kids' faces were being splashed around on national news.  Another photo was of a crying woman being gently held back by a police officer.  Another was of a group of grim-faced firefighters lining up before entering one of the buildings.

One of the more talked about photos was the one currently being displayed on the screen: a firefighter was walking down the stairs of a building that was almost obscured by thick black smoke.  He emerged from the haze with a look of determination on his ash-smudged, handsome face.  He wore no coat and no helmet, but carried a beautiful man in his arms who had his fingers curled tightly in the firefighter's T-shirt.  The picture had been called everything from heroic to romantic to staged to "the dumbest thing I've ever seen."  That last one had been Bobby's assessment as he'd yelled at Dean for taking off his protective gear.  It was a highly embarrassing photo to have broadcasted globally (apparently it had trended on Twitter or some shit), but Dean couldn't deny that it made him feel a little pride too.  Based on the way Cas' body relaxed momentarily in surprise, Dean assumed it was the first time he was seeing it.  Now was as good a time as any to announce his presence.

  


"Cas?"

Cas' body immediately tensed again and he hunched his shoulders.  He didn't turn around.  Dean felt sick.  Why wouldn't he look at him?  He took a small step closer to the man and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Angel, are you okay?"

Cas finally turned, a look of confusion on his face.  Confusion that washed away in a flood of guilt and disgust and self-loathing.  He turned away again.  Dean crossed the room immediately and pulled Castiel in his arms.  Cas resisted.  He pushed against him and squirmed his body trying to get away, but Dean held on to him.  Cas dropped the remote and it hit the hard floor with a loud clatter, the back popping off and sending the batteries flying.  The TV went silent and Cas used his hands to push against Dean's chest.  He started repeating the word "no" over and over again.  Dean tightened the circle of his arms.  Cas balled his hands into fists and beat them against Dean's chest as best he could with his arms trapped between their bodies.  He continued his cries of "no" and added "don't" to the litany.  Dean refused to let go even as Cas' voice became shrill and he began to sob.  He was starting to worry that maybe he really was doing the wrong thing when all of a sudden Cas collapsed against him.  He was lucky he was already holding him as tightly as he was or else Cas would have fallen to the floor.

"Why?" Cas sobbed, his voice laced with pain.  "Why are you here?  Why are you acting like nothing is wrong?"

Dean was a little confused by Cas' questions, but he was too focused on maneuvering Cas toward the bed so that he could sit on it and pull the man into his lap.  He leaned back against the elevated portion of the mattress and Cas curled up into a ball against him.

"You see what I've done," Cas whispered.  "I get that you're a hero, you had to save me.  But you don't have to stay."

Cas continued to mumble softly.  Dean assumed it was along the same vein of how terrible he was and how Dean needed to save himself and stay away from him.  Dean tuned him out and just concentrated on combing his fingers through his slightly greasy hair and holding him tightly with his other arm.  The clock on the wall told him it was already past the time he needed to leave, but he couldn't let Cas go, not yet.

"Angel.  I need you to listen to me."

"You were right.  You were so right.  You—”

"Castiel."

Cas stopped talking at Dean's stern voice.

"Cas, yesterday you told me you loved me.  Is that true?"

Cas winced and tried to huddle in on himself.

"Cas, answer me."

"No, it's not true.  It was just the circumstances.  I thought I was going to die.  It didn't mean anything."

Dean grabbed Cas by the shoulders and forced him to sit up.  Cas kept his eyes down.  Dean gave him a hard shake.

"Look at me."

Cas raised his eyes.

"Do you love me?"

"It doesn't matter.  You're not obligated—”

Cas stopped talking as Dean kissed him.  He put a hand behind Cas' neck and held him in place as he pressed their lips together almost too hard and thrust his tongue into Cas' mouth over and over, preventing him from speaking or resisting.  He leaned forward, guiding Cas to lean back on the bed.  He had to slip his legs off to the floor so that he could keep Cas on the bed.  He slid one hand down Cas' side and over his leg.  He found his knee, hooked his hand under it and spread Cas' legs apart.  He settled between them and kissed Cas with all the desperation he felt at the thought of Cas leaving him.  He pulled back with a wet smack and pinned Cas' shoulders to the mattress.  His blue eyes fluttered opened with a dazed look in them.

"Angel.  I have to go back.  But I'm not leaving until you tell me the fucking truth."

"The truth?" Cas asked, looking truly disoriented, but pleasantly so.  He licked his lips.  And then shifted his lower body.  Dean's groin tingled as the movement reminded him that he was in between Cas' legs, but he could tell that he wasn't going to get hard.

"Cas."

Cas focused on him.  And then he looked away.  Dean grabbed his jaw and forced his head back.

"Don't," Dean said between clenched teeth.  Then all the anger evaporated in a flash.  He slumped forward.  "Cas, please, just tell me...do you love me?"

Cas closed his eyes.  "I'm sorry," he said, starting to cry again.

Dean felt an odd, painful tightening in his chest.  He'd never felt anything like it before and wondered if he was having a heart attack.

"I do love you," Cas whimpered softly.  Dean's head snapped back up.  "I'm so sorry, but I do..."

"Sorry?  What?"  Dean closed his eyes and counted quickly to ten.  When he opened them again he was still pretty ticked off.

"You fucker.  Never do that again."

"Do what?" Cas asked, confused.

Dean leaned down and kissed him briefly.  "Look, I know we've got some issues to work out.  And you've got a lot of shit to deal with it.  I know that.  And we will work through all of it.  Or bury it and never talk about it.  Whatever.  But I've got to go, and I need to know that you know that I care about you and I'm coming back for you and if you do anything stupid so help me God I will—”  Dean wracked his brain.  "Do something really bad, okay?"

The barest hint of amusement crossed Cas' features.  "That's quite a threat."

"Shut up.  I don't know when my next break will be but we will be talking and you're not going to be worrying the whole time that I hate you or think you're a horrible person or that I want out.  Because I don't want out.  I want back in.  Letting you go is the biggest mistake I've ever made and I have done some boneheaded shit in my life."

Cas chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, and then he gave a small nod.  "We need to talk.  I'll give you that much."

"Fuck you," Dean said as he leaned down and brought their lips together.  "Say it again."

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and sucked in a sharp breath as Dean kissed his way down his jaw.

"Say it," Dean moaned softly, stroking his hands over Cas' body, the hard planes easily felt through the thin fabric of the hospital gown.  He knew that his hands were definitely trespassing a little too freely and Cas was making these pretty noises every time Dean undulated his hips and bit his neck.  This was so not the time or place for this, but it wasn't like it was the first time they'd gotten frisky in a hospital bed.

"Say it, Cas," Dean growled in his ear and bucked forward with his hips.

Cas gasped and dug his nails into Dean's shoulders.  He heard Cas draw a breath.

"Castiel?"

Dean froze, and then jumped back quickly to stand up straight.  He was expecting to see a nurse or Jess, but instead it was a smallish man with curly brown hair and a beard.  He looked older than them by quite a bit, but then his posture and small smile made him look younger.  Dean didn't even hazard a guess at his age, though his eyes carried the weight of an old soul.

Cas struggled to prop himself up on his elbows as he turned partially to look behind himself at the door.  His eyebrows shot up.

"Dad?"

Dean twitched and his stomach churned.  It wasn't like he'd never been caught making out with someone by his or her parents before, but this had been a particularly awkward moment to walk in on.  Cas sat up and hopped off the bed.  He walked toward his father and the man met him halfway across the room.  They embraced and Jess smiled at them from where she stood in the doorway.  Dean stood awkwardly to the side, but he felt a warm burst of nostalgia as he remembered the few good times he'd had with his own father.

"So, uh," Cas' father said as he stepped back from the hug.  "Awkward timing, but I'm guessing this is the boyfriend?"

Dean saw Cas' tongue press to the back of his teeth.  The fucker was going to say no.  So Dean stepped forward and said, "Yes.  My name's Dean."

He offered a hand and the man shook it.

"Uh.  Chuck.  Shurley.  I'm Chuck Shurley."

Dean glanced at Cas in mild confusion at the different surname.  He made a small dismissive gesture with his hand that Dean took to mean that he’d explain it later.  Dean returned his attention to his boyfriend’s father.

He was kind of a nervous thing and a little squirrely about the eyes, but Dean got the sense that it was a personality trait and not a reaction to Dean himself.  Cas, however, was giving Dean a displeased look.  All it did was make him look cute with his ruffled hair and grumpy face.

"I hate to run off so soon, but I'm due back at the scene for some more search and rescue."

"Oh, of course.  Firefighter.  Makes sense."

The man suddenly grabbed Dean's hand in both of his.  He made hard eye contact.

"Thank you for saving my son."

Dean blushed slightly, but he covered it with his go to cocksure attitude that was never too far away.

"Yeah, well, I never turn down a chance at publicity for the FDNY."

Jess and Cas' father smiled and Cas frowned.  Dean leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Cas' lips.

"I'll come over when I'm free."

Cas nodded but wouldn't meet his eyes.

"You're not gonna say it, are you?"

Cas crossed his arms and kept his eyes focused on the floor.  Dean sighed and straightened.  He gave Jess and Chuck a tight smile, and then he walked out the door.  He'd taken maybe seven or eight steps down the hall when someone called his name.  He turned around and saw Cas standing at the door to his room.

"I love you, Dean."

Dean felt nothing and everything all at once for an eternity that lasted a split second.  Then he smiled softly.

"Don't forget that between now and the next time I see you."

Cas frowned at him.  "You going to say it back?"

"You wanna hear it, you gotta let me back in."

Cas' shoulders slumped a little.  "Dean, it's not about me not wanting you.  It's—”

"Something we'll discuss later.  Let me know when you leave here and let me know if you go somewhere other than your place.  Alright?"

Cas nodded.  Dean hesitated.  Cas just looked so...broken.

"Cas..."

Blue eyes lifted from the floor to meet his.

"This too shall pass."

Cas nodded again, but his chin quivered and he had to duck his head to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks.  Dean turned and walked away quickly, feeling tears welling up in his eyes in reaction to seeing Cas cry.  He had to clear his head before he got to back to work.  An impossible task really, but he figured he should at least give it a shot.


	10. Sing for Absolution

Castiel waited behind his sister as she unlocked the door to his apartment.  His father stood behind him holding the grocery bags.  He was grateful to have them with him, but part of him just wanted to be left alone.  That was not going to happen any time soon however.  They fussed over him and made sure he was showered and dressed in soft clothes and fed his favorite childhood snack of a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

They spoke comforting words and promised him that he wasn't to blame for anything and that even the FBI hadn’t known that Josie Sands had ties to the Black Eyed Mafia.  They talked about taking a trip somewhere.  The three of them would go somewhere and not think for a while.  Jess offered to support him if he quit his job for however long it took to get back on his feet.  His father told him that they would support him if he chose to keep his job.  The job itself wasn't evil; sometimes bad things just happened.

Cas listened to their words and understood them on an intellectual level, but it was hard to accept that he was blameless when he knew that Josie would have been in jail if he hadn't been the one to get the charges against her dismissed.  Then his father pointed out that Josie hadn't been the one with her finger on the trigger.  That this attack had to have been planned for months if not years in advance.  It probably would have happened even if she'd been in jail.  She had a wide network of followers who did her bidding for her.  Then his sister added that if he hadn't gotten Josie off, someone else at Finnerman would have.  But that was just it.  It hadn't been someone else at Finnerman.  It had been him.

After several hours he finally managed to convince them that they could leave him alone.  Jess offered to stay in the guest room, but Cas used Dean as an excuse to get her to leave.  After all, she didn't want to be around for the hot "I'm so glad you're alive" sex they were sure to have.  At least, that's what he let her believe.  He knew that wasn't going to happen.  They were going to talk and they were going to reach the same conclusion.  Loving each other didn't change anything really.  Dean deserved better.  He was also certain that Dean was going to be even more committed to his job now—and that was something Cas could not live with.  Not after seeing what it was like to be inside a building burning and collapsing all around him.  He would never be able to survive knowing Dean faced that every day.  Well, maybe not every day, but even one day was one too many.  It was going to haunt him the rest of his life as it was knowing Dean Winchester was out there in the world, risking his life to save strangers and potentially dying a horribly painful death, trapped and scared and alone.

He turned on the TV to distract himself from those thoughts, but of course, the only thing on the news was the attack downtown.  Even the major networks had interrupted their regular broadcasts for the breaking news of the public release of the terrorists' manifesto.  There was a lot of lofty, idealized better society bullshit in the hundred and seven pages of crap they released.  It was pretty obvious that Abaddon didn't much care about the betterment of society so much as she just liked control and destroying things.  He'd known that.  Uriel had known that.  Everyone at The Finnerman Firm had known that.  And they'd all done their best to get her set free.  So Abaddon hadn't literally pushed the detonator herself?  Well, neither had he. That didn't mean that he wasn't just as much responsible for the death and destruction she'd wrought.

Cas' insides churned as he watched more and more images flash across the screen.  He leaned against the arm of his couch and felt himself slipping into a despair that seemed like it was offering him an out if he would just take it.  Then those pictures of the first responders on the scene began to cycle through again.  The one of him and Dean stayed up longer than the others.  He found that it was easy to focus on the muscles rippling in Dean's arms and the sexy smolder on his face as he walked away from the crumbing building like some kind of action hero.  It looked like the cover of a trashy romance novel.

His landline rang and he was perfectly content to ignore it, but his caller ID announced that it was Dean calling.  He struggled to sit up straight and pulled the phone from the holder.  He slipped back into the comfy corner of his couch and put the phone to his ear.

"Dean."

"Hey, Cas.  How's it going?"

"It sucks."

"Yeah.  Look, angel, I gotta go back to the station.  We're still on duty.  We've got another four hours off, and then twelve on.  But after that we'll be off for twelve hours.  So, I'm going to come over after the next twelve hour shift ends.  I'll get to your place around three or four tomorrow afternoon."

Cas nodded.  Then remembered he had to speak.  "Okay."

"You okay?  Are you alone?"

"My father and sister were here, but they left about an hour ago.  I'm just going to go to bed and sleep until you get here."

"Cas..."

"I promise I'm...okay.  I'm not staring at the knives in my kitchen or anything, alright?"

"Please don't joke about that."

Cas felt guilty at the pain he heard in Dean's voice.

"I'm not.  I'm alright as long as I don't think about it too much.  Hence, the wanting to sleep part."

"Okay."  Dean didn't sound convinced.  Cas didn't blame him.  "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, Dad cooked for me.  With vegetables from Joshua's garden," he added in a slightly snarky voice as he picked at a nit on the couch cushion.

"That the guy your dad is banging?"

Cas groaned.  "I don't know.  Jess and I are just guessing.  But with my dad...it's impossible to guess where he is or what he's doing or who he's doing.  It could be completely innocent."

Dean chuckled.  "Well, at least you got a dinner out of it, huh?"

"Yeah.  My dad's a good cook.  You should—”  Cas paused.  He shouldn't offer for Dean to try his father's cooking because that would imply they would still be seeing each other after tomorrow.  "You should go.  Get some sleep if you have to be up again so soon."

"Yeah...yeah, you're right, Cas.  Sleep tight, angel."

There it was again.  That saccharine sweet pet name that seemed a little odd coming from a man like Dean.  Of course, when he called him angel it didn’t sound so much like an endearment as it did an accusation.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you call me ‘angel?’"

"Because you own a double-ended dildo."

Cas snorted out a laugh.

"And it seems nicer than calling you ‘devil.’"

"Oh my God.  Is that seriously why?  From _that_ conversation?"

"Yeah.  What, did you think it was because I hold you up on some pedestal of holy perfection?"

Cas felt a smile tugging on his lips.  "No, I don't think that was it."

"Well, now you know.  You're wickedly divine."

Cas let out another involuntary laugh and put a hand to his very warm face.  "Please shut up.  Go get some sleep."

"You too.  See you soon.  Promise."

"Okay."

Cas bit his lip as he listened to the other end.  He could tell Dean was still there.  Cas closed his eyes, deciding he didn't care if he was being weak.  When he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I love you, Dean."

"Same here.  Goodnight, Cas."

Cas kept the phone to his ear long after the call disconnected.  Finally he leaned against the couch and pulled his arms in, holding the phone to his chest.  He curled in on himself and sighed painfully as his sore muscles protested the movement.  He didn't just feel tired, he felt worn down, exhausted, empty.  He just needed to make it through the night and then Dean would be there...and then what?  Castiel was determined to end the relationship for good.  He'd hit a wall going ninety miles an hour—there was nothing left of his old life or even his self.  He was going to have to rebuild everything from the ground up and it would be unfair to ask Dean to go through that with him.

No matter what the stories said, love just wasn't enough to conquer all.

~~~

Castiel woke at five thirty in the morning—his body programmed for an early rising.  He promptly turned over and burritoed himself in his blankets and went back to sleep.  At eleven o'clock he couldn't ignore his bladder any longer.  After relieving himself and half-heartedly brushing his teeth, he shuffled into the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee.  There were still four or five long hours before he would get to see Dean.  That also meant there were only four or five short hours before he had to see Dean again.  He really ought to just go back to bed and disappear into unconsciousness again.  If he had to sit with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company for the next several hours, Dean was going to find him in a quivering pile of humanoid goo on the floor.

After he finished his second cup of coffee, he determined that going back to bed really was the way to go.  He began his slow shuffle down the hall, but pulled up short when the intercom on the wall buzzed.  Cas looked at the clock on the cable box.  It wasn't even noon yet.  It seemed unlikely that Dean had been released so early, but his sister had a key and no one else would come see him.  Curious, he walked over to the intercom and pushed the button.  Jesse, one of the day shift doormen, responded.

"Mr. Novak, you have visitor.  A Mr. Uriel Finnerman."

Cas leaned against the wall and chewed on his bottom lip.  He tapped his fingers over the intercom.  He realized that even though he was allowing himself time to think about what he wanted to do, his mind was blank and he wasn't thinking anything.  Finally he pushed the button to speak.

"Send him up."

Cas waited by the door and wondered why his mind was stubbornly staying blank.  Maybe because he didn’t want to think about how close he’d come to sleeping with Uriel again.  After the vote that made him senior partner at The Finnerman Firm, Uriel had taken him out for a drink.  A drink that had turned into five or six and resulted in the two of them fumbling drunkenly in the men’s room of a gentleman’s club.  It was the thought that it was the second time that he was fooling around in a men’s room that had made him stop.  He hadn’t spoken with Dean in almost two months, but the thought of him broke his buzz and brought him crashing down into drunken depression.  He’d actually started crying on the floor of a public restroom.  Uriel had been kind enough to get him off the floor and put into a taxi, but he hadn’t seen him since that night.  Uriel had once again disappeared from the office and allowed the senior partners to handle everything.  Cas wasn’t sure if that was because he’d always intended to leave after a few months or if he dreaded the possibility of running into Castiel again.  Cas suspected it was the latter.

Cas moved his eyes to the door when he heard Uriel’s distinctive knock.  He inhaled deeply and reached out for the doorknob.  The door swung open almost horror-movie slow.  Uriel stood on the other side with a hand in his pocket and a manila envelope in his hand.  Cas stepped back so the man could enter his home.  He waved a hand toward the living room and Uriel headed in that direction without a word.  Cas closed the door and made his way into the kitchen.  He pulled out the bottle of scotch that Uriel had given him as a “gift” when they were dating.  Really it had been so that whenever he came over there was something “decent” to drink.  He poured a couple of fingers into a tumbler, and then added another large splash.  He poured himself half a cup of coffee and filled in the other half with whisky.

As he walked into the living room, he could see Uriel sitting on the couch with straight shoulders and legs crossed at the knee.  He looked very calm and poised, but Cas could sense that there was something tight and anxious thrumming just under the surface.  He handed Uriel the glass of scotch and he downed half of it without a word.  Cas sat across from him in his recliner chair.  He sipped his coffee and shook his head a bit at the bite of alcohol.  For a second he’d forgotten he’d added it.

They sat in silence for a very long time.  Their drinks were finished and set aside.  They shifted occasionally, but neither moved from their spots.  When Uriel broke the silence first, Castiel had never been more surprised in his life—except after hearing what it was Uriel said.

“I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up.  He gave a slight shake of his head.  He looked around, waiting for something to explain what was happening.  He focused on his boss again.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Uriel looked down and brushed non-existent lint off his pants leg.

“I didn’t think…I never thought that she would…do something like this.”

Cas inhaled and felt a grudging compassion for the man.  He was being sincere, but really, how could one convince himself so thoroughly that Josie Sands—Abaddon the Destroyer—was harmless?

“It was just money.”

Cas tilted his head, confused.

“Just money exchanging hands.  This shit was happening anyway, so why not make a profit?”

Cas’ brow furrowed.  “Uriel, I don’t understand—”

Uriel tossed the envelope onto the coffee table.  He picked up his empty tumbler, frowned at the clear bottom, and then set it back down.  Cas scooted forward and dragged the envelope across the table.  He looked up at Uriel one more time, but he wouldn’t make eye contact.  Cas sat back and opened the envelope, pulling out the thick stack of documents.  He only had to look through them for a couple of minutes before he realized that there were emails, bank statements, contracts, and a myriad of other documents that linked Josie Sands and her organization to the Black Eyed Mafia—a relationship that had existed for years.  A relationship that a couple politicians had known about, no less than a dozen wall street executives, several members of the NYPD, an FBI agent, and few other prominent men and women in positions of power.  One of whom was Uriel himself.

Cas clutched the papers in his hands.  He looked up and Uriel was finally looking at him.

“Uriel…what did you do?”

His voice was hoarse, dismayed.  He could believe that Uriel would turn a blind eye, but this showed that he had helped embezzle and launder money on behalf of the Black Eyed Mafia.

“It was just business.  The mafia runs a business, and I was just providing them a service.  They were harmless.  Someone is always going to be running drugs in the city.  It was better the mafia who kept things organized and civilized rather than a Mexican cartel.  Everything in this world is the choice between the lesser of two evils.”

Castiel frowned at that.

“I knew Josie helped them with certain enterprises, but I never asked questions because it didn’t concern me.  And she never—hurt people.  When the AD brought the mafia down, I knew I had to get on Josie’s good side, to salvage what was left of the business and not risk being sold out.  Or considered a loose end that needed to be taken care of.  When she took over—she went crazy.  Cas…I had no idea that she would…hurt innocent people.  _Children_.  Breaking the system is not what the mafia does.  They need it to operate.  Why would she destroy…?”

Uriel licked his lips and smoothed his hands down his crossed leg.

“Uriel, you need to do the right thing.  You can’t let her or her people get away with this.  This information will lock her away, cut off her connections, and destroy her entire network.  This could bring an end to the Black Eyed Mafia and Abaddon the Destroyer completely.”

“I know.  I’ve already sent copies to the police and the FBI.”

Cas opened his mouth, and then closed it.  He thumbed through the papers again and then looked up in alarm.

“Not everything, right?  I mean, there’s stuff in here that incriminates you.  You didn’t—”

“You misunderstand my purpose in being here.”

Cas shook his head.  “What?”

“I’m here seeking legal representation.”

Cas felt his mouth fall open.  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  But now that tension and anxiety in Uriel’s body and eyes made sense.  He was afraid.  Castiel moved out of the chair and sat next to Uriel on the couch.

“Tell me what’s happened so far.”

“I just sent it via courier this morning.  I suspect that I’ll be called and asked to surrender myself or be arrested sometime this afternoon.  I just wanted to go in with a lawyer.”

Cas shook his head.  “No, I don’t recommend surrendering with a guilty plea.”

Uriel gave him a look.  “Why not?”

“Because.  Because this information is useless if it can’t be verified.  Someone has to authenticate it.  You can do that.  You can prove that all of this is true and that all of these people are connected and have dirt on them.  And you can do it in exchange for immunity.”

Uriel looked at him and his veneer finally started to crack.  His brow creased and his chin quivered.  He looked down and away.

“Why?” he choked out.

“Because you’re family.”

Uriel leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tried to repress his sobs.  Castiel rubbed his back gently.

“Uriel, I’m not going to act like I’m not shocked and disgusted by what you did.  But I do believe you when you said you never thought anything like yesterday would happen.  And the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself to correct those wrongs tells me that you’re not lost.  Not completely.”

Uriel shook his head slightly.

“When did it start?” Cas asked quietly.

Uriel sat up and pulled away from Cas’ touch.  “After we broke up.  After Raphael died.  After it seemed like the whole world was just a piece of shit we were forced to live our shitty lives in.”

“Uriel—”

“I don’t need pity, Cas.  I just need a lawyer.”

Cas put a hand on his shoulder.  “You have that.  And a friend.  Now.  I’m going to get dressed and we’re going to go to Twenty-Six Fed and surrender to the FBI.  They’ll have more power to grant you immunity.”

Uriel nodded.

“You might also need to consider the possibility that you’ll be put in witness protection.”

“No more Cristal and designer labels then, I take it,” Uriel said with wry bitterness.

“Probably not.  Wash those glasses while I’m gone.  And don’t do anything stupid like leave without me.”

In twenty minutes Cas was dressed and making a phone call to Hannah to ask her to pull everything she could on cases involving mob informants.  As they waited for the doorman to hail them a cab, Cas hurriedly scribbled a note on a piece of paper for Dean.  He gave it to the doorman and probably freaked the guy out with how imperative it was that he give Dean this message when he showed up.  He hadn’t realized his cell phone was dead until they were in the elevator already and he didn’t want to waste time going back inside to use his landline.  Dean would understand.  Or this would be the perfect way to push him away for good.

~~~

Cas rolled his shoulders, trying to work out some of the stiffness.  He’d been sitting next to Uriel in a hard, uncomfortable metal chair in a cold, featureless room for hours.  It had been a long afternoon of arguing and negotiating and waiting.  Endless waiting.  The agents who had been assigned to their case had refused to even begin talking with Uriel until they could verify some of the information he’d provided was legitimate.  Things had gotten particularly sticky when one the FBI’s own had been implicated.

At the end of it all, they still had a lot of work to do and a lot more negotiating and there were still a lot of people who had to be consulted when it came to offering a man associated, however peripherally, with a terrorist organization blanket immunity.  Uriel had agreed to enter the FBI’s protective custody as some of the information he’d provided to the police had already been leaked to the media.  They were just waiting, again, for the feds to come back after securing a hotel for Uriel to stay in for the night.

“Now remember,” Cas said.  “Don’t talk to anyone and don’t say anything.  Until this deal is signed and filed, you can still be arrested and charged.  So, don’t—”

“I know, Castiel.  I’m a lawyer.”

“Perhaps, but you’re apparently also an idiot.”

Uriel shot him a look.  Cas’ hand twitched on the table.  Then he just mentally shrugged and reached across the table to hold Uriel’s hand.

“Uriel, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when your brother died.”

The man balked a little at the abrupt change of topic, and then his eyes clouded with painful memories.

“You had Jess to worry about.  And we weren’t together anymore.”

“I know.  But, I avoided you.  I was an asshole.  But.  What you’ve done…how could you do it knowing what Raphael would think?”

Cas held onto Uriel’s hand and wouldn’t let him pull away.  He tilted his head slightly, softening his look.

“Never mind, I’m sorry.  That’s not even relevant.  I just—I don’t know what happened and I keep thinking what I could have done differently to…or what I can do now to—”

“Nothing, Cas.  I’m an adult and I made my own choices.  Now I have to live with the consequences.  You can represent me, but you can’t try to take responsibility for me.  You’ve got your own life.  And a heroic as fuck firefighter boyfriend to take care of.  You can’t be bothering with me.”

Cas sat back, blushing.  “I—we didn’t.  We’re just talking.  And I’m late.  He’ll be pissed.  But I had to do this for you.  I wasn’t going to leave you hanging.  And if he can’t understand that, then he’s not the man I thought he was.  And I don’t—”  Cas stopped babbling when he saw Uriel raise one eyebrow.  “How—how do you know we got back together?  I mean, we’re not together.  He thinks we are, but it’s not going to work out.  Our lives are too complicated and fucked up for it to end in anything but disaster.”

Cas cleared his throat and Uriel continued to stare at him blandly until he was certain Cas was going to stay quiet.

“I didn’t know you were back together, but that picture has been all over the news.”

“Oh, geez,” Cas groaned and put a hand to his flamingly hot face.

“I get it now,” Uriel said with a mild smile.  “I would have picked that hot piece of ass over me too.”

Cas smiled embarrassedly and pulled his hand across his eyes.

“And while I don’t understand everything you were babbling about, I do know that there is nothing too complicated or fucked up about your lives that can prevent you from getting your goddamned fairy tale ending with him.”

Cas started to shake his head.

“Cas, did you know that The Finnerman Firm almost had to file bankruptcy a few years back?”

Cas straightened and shook his head.  He’d never heard anything about the firm having financial trouble.

“We were in breach of contract.  A major contract with a major corporation that sued the pants off us because we didn’t show up in court for opening day at trial and pretty much railroaded them.”

Cas blinked, totally shocked.  No one he knew at Finnerman had ever mentioned this.  He wondered if anyone knew at all.  Missing the first day of a trial was—unheard of.

“Well, more specifically, _Raphael_ didn’t show up at court because he had hopped a plane to Amsterdam.”

And with that Castiel knew the rest of the story.  He’d taken Jess to Amsterdam to help her get over her dick of an ex-boyfriend who had chosen work over her.  That dick had been Raphael.  He’d tracked them down at their hotel and gotten on his knees in a crowded lobby and professed his love and begged for forgiveness.  Cas had been weirded out because Raphael Finnerman had not been the kind of man to get on his knees for anybody.

“He almost lost the firm he had built from the ground up.  His professional reputation could have been ruined.  The family never quite trusted again.  Raphael risked everything to go after Jess.  For no other reason than the fact that he was happy when he was around her.  But then, isn’t that reason enough to risk it all for someone?”

Castiel sat back and let those words sink in.  He wondered if Jess knew what Raphael had done for her.  Knowing Raphael, he never would have told her something like that.  He looked up at Uriel.

“I appreciate the advice, but you do realize how freaky it is coming from you.”

“Fuck you, Castiel.  You better get me immunity or I’m going to ‘accidentally’ post all those videos of you rapping NWA in nothing but a gold chain on my mother’s divan.”

Cas’ jaw dropped.  He had repressed those memories to the darkest, deepest corners of his mind—he had honestly even forgotten he’d ever done it.

“You wouldn’t—”

“Oh, I would.  I’m expecting great things from you, Mr. Novak.”

“Consider your ass covered, Mr. Finnerman.”

Uriel smiled.  “I knew I’d hired the best.”

“Remind me again how you’re going to be paying me now that all of your assets have been seized?”

“I’m not going to publish those videos.”

Cas made a face.  “That’s not payment; that’s blackmail.”

Uriel shrugged a shoulder.

“Asshole,” Cas muttered around a laugh.

“Mr. Finnerman?”

They both turned their heads toward the agent standing in the door.

“We have a location for you now.  We’ll resume business tomorrow at eight o’clock.  Mr. Novak.”

Cas stood up and shook the agent’s proffered hand.

“You can call me on my Blackberry when you get here in the morning and I’ll come get you.  Then I’ll take you to the safe house.”

Castiel nodded.  “Thank you.”

Uriel was escorted out and Castiel slowly packed his briefcase.  He was in no hurry to go home.  Dean was either not waiting for him because he’d given up on him, or he was waiting for him and they were going to have to have that talk.  Both possibilities made his stomach twist in knots.

The whole taxi ride from downtown to his building was torture as every stop and turn made the contents of his stomach slosh.  All he’d had to eat that day had been coffee and a premade sandwich from the kiosk in the building lobby.  He was feeling quite nauseous.  The nausea dissipated somewhat when he got out of the cab and got his feet back on solid ground, but his stomach immediately seized up on him again when he saw Dean talking to his doorman.  He checked his watch.  It was almost nine o’clock.  Had Dean been waiting here for six hours?  Then he saw the doorman call out to Dean as he started to leave.  He handed him the note Cas had scribbled down earlier in the day.  He approached him as he read the note.  Dean's face looked blank as he read it, and then he crumpled it in his hand and turned to leave.  He pulled up short when he came face to face with Cas.

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

“Um.  So, your emergency is over then?”

“Not over, just temporarily suspended.”

“I see.”

Cas flexed his fingers.  “So.  You just got here?”

“Yeah.  We, uh, in our last hour we heard people calling for help.  So we stayed until we were able to dig them out.  It took a while.”

“Did they survive?”

“Yeah.  There were five of them.  They’re all safe now.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.  I meant to call, but you know, I didn’t have my phone on me while I was digging through building rubble.”

“It’s okay.  I wouldn’t have gotten it anyway because I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah…right.”

They looked at each other awkwardly, realizing they were still in the exact same situation they had been in three months ago when they’d decided to end their relationship.  Cas noticed the doorman was trying not to look at them, though he was clearly eavesdropping.  He nodded his head toward the entrance.

“Come up so we can talk.”

Dean followed him into his building and onto the elevator.  They walked in silence down the hall to his door and still didn’t speak as they entered and Cas put down his briefcase and Dean put down the backpack he was carrying.  Cas turned to face Dean and looked up, but his eyes chickened out at the last minute and settled on his nose.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to have a seat?”

“In a minute.”

Cas looked up, a little confused by that answer, but Dean’s meaning became clear when he took Cas’ face in his hands and kissed him.  Cas’ hands went automatically to his waist and he opened up instinctually.  Dean’s tongue massaged his in a sensual rhythm that telegraphed all the way down to his groin.  Dean stepped forward, guiding Castiel backwards as they made their way to the bedroom.  When they broke apart to breathe, Dean’s lips found Cas’ cheek and jaw and neck.

“I thought we were going to talk,” Cas said breathlessly.

“We will.”

Dean hoisted Cas up and he wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist.  The fireman carried him effortlessly the rest of the way to the bedroom and laid Cas out on the bed like he would break if he didn’t handle him carefully.  Cas lay back and closed his mind off to all the fears and worries that were scratching at him to be noticed.  He allowed Dean to undress him layer by layer, gasping and humming his delight every time Dean’s lips touched newly revealed skin.  When he was naked, Dean pulled away.  Cas opened his eyes and watched Dean slowly undress.  He pulled on his erection as he watched the slow striptease and parted his legs when Dean crawled back onto the bed.

Cas kissed him passionately as the man fumbled blindly in the nightstand drawer for the lube.  Dean sat back and Castiel moaned his displeasure as the man pulled away from him.  He used the separation to coat his fingers liberally in lubricant and then slid them between Cas’ legs.  Cas' knees fell completely open and he exposed himself to Dean.  He gripped the duvet (damn it they were doing it on top of the duvet again) and felt shocks of pleasure shooting through him as Dean fingered him.  His cock was so hard it was bordering on painful, and a long, sticky string of precome connected the head to his stomach.  He raised a hand and pulled at Dean’s shoulder.

“Come on, come.  Now.”

“It’s been a while, Cas.”

“I want it to hurt.”

Dean stopped what he was doing and leveled a hard look at Cas.  “No.  That’s not how this is going to be.”

Cas shook his head.  “I don’t mean I want it to be painful, I just mean I want to feel it.  Please, Dean, I promise you I’m ready.  Please, please…Dean…”

Dean swallowed and his breathing was definitely shallow as he slicked up his cock and positioned the head at Cas’ entrance.

“Inside…come inside me, Dean.”

Dean pushed forward, biting his lip and holding onto Cas’ hips like he might lose him if he let go.

Cas mewled softly as Dean pushed into him, filling the emptiness in him.

“Dean,” Cas could hear the tears in his voice.  “This…the way you feel inside me.  I can’t…”  He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations.  “You’re so hard, so unyielding.  I can feel you—every inch of you, moving inside me.  When I move my body, when you move yours—it’s there—this hard, hot piece of you that’s a part of me now.  Dean, Dean…pull out…slowly, oh God, Dean…so hard, so perfect.  Come inside me again.  Come inside me—ohhhhh!  Oh, God.  Please, please…”

Cas knew he should shut up, but he couldn’t.  All he could feel was Dean inside of him, moving inside of him, and he needed for Dean to know, to understand, that he had never been more alive and sure of anything in his life than when Dean completed him.

Dean was being good, so good, moving slowly and letting Cas feel and savor every moment and every inch.  He also knew it had to be torture for Dean to have such minimal stimulation.  He nudged slightly at his shoulder.

“Get in me, and then roll over.”

Dean thrust in to the hilt and Cas drew his legs up with a pleasured hiss.  Dean rolled onto his back, pulling Cas with him.  His legs fell to either side of Dean’s body and Cas sat up.  He undulated his hips and worked Dean’s cock even deeper inside his body.  Dean exhaled tremulously, on the edge of his control.  Cas planted his hands on Dean’s chest and ground down onto to him in hard figure eights.  His cock was throbbing and precome dribbled in a constant stream out of his slit.  Dean raised a hand and smeared the liquid down his shaft, pumping him at an even pace, but his grip was just on the right side of painful.  Cas worked his hips harder, grunting as he fucked himself down on Dean, his teeth gritted together, eyes squeezed tightly shut.  Dean’s cock felt huge inside of him, spreading him wide and tight and hot…Cas sat back cried out as he came in a sudden violent rush of pleasure.  Dean worked him through it with his hand, his come covering his fist, stomach, and chest.

Cas opened his eyes and smiled down at Dean.  Dean sat up and kissed him, working his hips as best he could with the awkward angle.  His hands were roaming over Cas’ back and holding him tightly to his chest.  Cas pulled back a little and nibbled on Dean’s lower lip.

“Take what you need,” Cas murmured softly.

Dean groaned and surged forward, landing on top of Cas and started pumping his hips.  He managed to eventually get up on his knees and balanced his upper body by pushing Cas’ legs up behind the knees and bearing down on him.  Cas moaned loudly and could do nothing to repress the grunts and groans that Dean fucked out of him.  Cas had been expecting Dean to come quickly, but the man had other ideas.  He fucked him hard and fast in their current position, and then he paused and turned Cas onto his side, holding one leg straight up while Dean humped into him from his kneeling stance.  Then he turned Cas onto his hands and knees and pounded into him until Cas was crying softly with his face pressed to the mattress.  Finally Dean put him on his back again and spread his legs in the air in a wide V.  He worked his hips in a slow, hard rhythm and Cas swore and squirmed and keened desperately as Dean ripped a dry orgasm out of him.  Then Dean yanked him up quickly to sit in his lap.  He pistoned his hips and then bit down on Cas' shoulder to muffle his shout as he came warm and deep inside of Cas.  Cas’ body clenched, his hole milking Dean’s cock and his arms locking the man against him.

They remained still, trembling in the aftershocks of their lovemaking.  Dean's jaw relaxed and Cas' shoulder throbbed with pain.  He cupped the back of Dean's head as he tenderly kissed the indentations he'd left in Cas' skin.  Cas combed his fingers through the man's hair and tilted his head so that Dean could lay his cheek on his shoulder.  He held him tightly and petted him soothingly as he sensed that Dean was experiencing a profound moment.

“I—I didn’t—”

“Shh,” Cas shushed him as he held him closer.

Dean started to go limp under him, and Cas felt the same wave of sleepiness washing over him.  They eased down onto the bed, Dean slipping from inside Castiel, but they hardly noticed the loss of physical connection as they lay together and looked into each other’s eyes.  Cas struggled to keep his eyelids up, but he lost the battle and fell into a deep sleep, wrapped tightly in Dean’s embrace.

~~~

Cas awoke the next morning unsure of what had disturbed his sleep.  Then he heard the melodic strains of a song playing over his sound system very softly.

_You could be my unintended/Choice to live my life extended/You could be the one I'll always love_

He recognized the song as being from his own collection; it certainly didn't fit Dean's tastes.  He rubbed his eyes, feeling a little disoriented, and realized he’d been sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed when he sat up.  He whipped his head around a little frantically when he noticed that he was alone in bed.  Then just over the soft music he heard clinking sounds coming from his kitchen.

_You could be the one who listens/To my deepest inquisitions/You could be the one I'll always love_

He pulled on a pair of boxers he found on the floor—Dean’s because he certainly didn’t own any underwear that came from Sears—and walked gingerly down the hall.  Perhaps he should have let Dean prep him a little bit more last night.  But it had felt so good at the time.

_I'll be there as soon as I can/But I'm busy mending broken/Pieces of the life I had before_

He found Dean scrambling some eggs and sipping on a large mug of coffee.  He smiled when he saw Cas shuffle into the room, and then his grin widened as Cas plopped himself down on a stool at the kitchen island and slumped forward onto the counter.  He suspected Dean was smiling at his appearance or his frown or any number of things that Dean seemed to find so amusing about him when he first woke up.  Cas didn’t see it.

_You could be my unintended/Choice to live my life extended/You should be the one—_

Dean clicked off the music using the remote.

“Morning.  Are you hungry?  I was going to let you sleep in as long as possible.”

Cas looked out the window and saw there was barely a grey haze visible through the glass.

“What time is it?  Is it even actually morning?” he asked with a yawn.

“Yep.  It’s four-thirty.”

“Fuck me, Winchester.”

“Any time, any place, Novak.  But, I’ve got to get back to the scene.”

“Right.  Your job.  I also have to be downtown in less than four hours anyway.”

“Right.  Your job.”

Dean turned off the burner and retrieved a plate from the cabinet.  He dumped a pile of fluffy eggs onto it and set it on the kitchen island between them.  Cas pulled two forks out of the silverware drawer on his side and handed one to Dean when he returned with a mug of coffee for Cas.  They dug into the plate and managed to eat half of it in thirty seconds flat.  They slowed down a bit as they ate the second half.

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Cas.  We can make it work.”

The man stubbornly shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chomped on them noisily.  Cas could feel a smile pulling on the corners of his lips.  He had to go down to the FBI's New York field office and negotiate a deal for his criminal enterprising ex-boyfriend boss.  He had to try not to throw up his eggs all day as he thought about how Dean was risking his life looking for survivors in the rubble of a heinous attack.  An attack that could in some part be attributed to his lack of integrity and would no doubt shadow him for all of his remaining days.  He knew that he and Dean would not be seeing much of each other over the ensuing days and weeks, and possibly months if shit really hit the fan.  But in spite of all that, eating a plate of cooling eggs in his kitchen with Dean made him happy.

“I know that.  I was just going to ask you if you could pass the salt.”

“Oh.”

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment.  Then he reached behind himself to the counter and grabbed the saltshaker.  Turning back around, he slid it across the top of the island to Cas’ waiting hand.  Cas salted his eggs and let his eyes roam over Dean’s features.  He was a good man, and Cas was determined to be a man worthy of him.  He was willing to fight for this happiness.  It was more than worth the risks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced in this chapter is [Unintended](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OaVPAKuZMbw) by Muse.


	11. Epilogue

**Three years later**

 

Castiel stood at the top of the stairs of the courthouse, checking his watch every fifteen seconds.  The doors to the courtroom were going to be closed soon and no amount of special privileges or backdoor favors would be able to get them inside.  It was a high profile case and the place was packed with reporters and representatives of the dozens of victims' families.  Scores of other reporters and spectators who hadn't been able to get access stood outside the courthouse amidst protesters, demonstrators, and the police trying to keep the scene orderly.

"Cas!"

Cas turned and saw Dean at the bottom of the stairs behind a wad of people.  He walked down a couple of steps and indicated to a police officer that Dean needed to be let through.  The people Dean shimmied between to get up the stairs complained loudly and demanded to know why he could get in and they couldn't.  Cas groaned softly as he got his first full length view of his--quasi-fiancé he supposed if that drunken proposal from two nights ago was actually going to hold up--and crossed his arms in mild annoyance.  Dean stopped in front of him and made a face.

"What?"

Dean was in ripped jeans, a white T-shirt, and he was covered in engine grease and who knows what else.  He looked hot as fuck, but it was very inappropriate for court.

"Nothing," Cas sighed and took Dean by the hand as he led him inside.

He'd been thrilled when Dean had decided to retire from the FDNY and open an auto body shop specializing in classic cars with the help from a "loan" from Castiel, but he hadn't realized how much dirt and grease that was going to entail.  Not that he was going to complain about the extended showers he and Dean took together as a result, but still, it was a lot of grime.  It was, however, also surprisingly lucrative.  It was amazing what people were willing to pay to keep their old, classic cars well maintained or to have them restored.

As it turned out that ugly black car in the picture with the young Winchesters wasn't a relic from the past but a car that Dean had had in storage for several years.  Dean also took issue with his "baby" being called an "ugly black car."  Cas had paid for that comment.  He'd paid for it in the front seat of that ugly car as he'd sucked Dean off while Dean had waxed poetic about the '67 Impala four door hardtop's many amazing features.  He'd been a little jealous when Dean had climaxed gasping the vehicle's VIN number.

They made it inside to the lobby and moved through security as quickly as possible.  As they walked down the hallway to courtroom four, Cas tried to rub a smudge of grease off Dean's cheekbone.  Dean put up with it for maybe three seconds before he ducked his head away and swatted at Cas' hands.  Cas put his hands up in surrender and then waved his credentials to the guards standing outside the courtroom.  They nodded to the two men and just as Cas reached out to open the doors, Dean gave his butt a smack.  Cas hissed Dean's name, but he just snickered softly as they entered the room.  It was already getting quiet as the judge was currently making his way to the bench.

"Cas.  Cas!" someone whisper-shouted his name.  He saw Jess standing in the back row on the left side of the packed gallery.

Dean and Cas shuffled close to her.  Jess took Cas' hand and squeezed it tightly.  The crowd's murmuring got a little louder as the jury filed into the room.  The judge banged his gavel to quiet the room.  He asked the defendant to stand.  Even though everyone in the room was standing and they were at the back, Cas could easily spot Sam's head over the sea of people as he stood at the prosecutor's table.

"Mister Foreperson, have you reached a verdict?"

"We have, your honor."

"In the matter of the State of New York versus Josie Sands, what say you?"

The foreman read off a very long list of charges and confirmed a guilty verdict on all of them.  There wasn't much noise in the courtroom as no one had been expecting a different outcome.  There was some soft crying as family members were finally being given justice after the Courthouse Bombings of 2014.

Once the jury was dismissed, the noise increased as reporters began corresponding with the anchors back in news rooms, and some shouted out questions to Josie Sands who ignored them and allowed herself to be escorted out of the room with an unpleasantly coy smile on her lips.  Cas linked his fingers with Dean and followed close behind him as he, Jess, and Dean made their way to the front of the room.  Sam was shaking hands with his fellow prosecutors and they all looked like they were still exhaling the tension that had been strangling them for weeks now.  He brightened visibly when he spotted his family.

"Hey, baby," Sam said and leaned down to kiss Jess on the cheek.  "Hey, other baby," he said and leaned down farther to slide a large hand over the soft swell of Jess' stomach.

Cas smiled at the gesture.  He was still a little overwhelmed by the news that he had a niece on the way.  He was going to spoil her rotten.  No one on the planet would be a more doting uncle.  Well, maybe Dean would wind up taking that title.

"Congratulations, Sam," Cas said shaking his hand.  "Not bad for your first case working for the DA."

Sam let out a slightly shaky laugh.  "Yeah.  Guess it's all downhill from here."

"That's alright, Sammy," Dean said, patting his brother on the arm.  "Your sugar mama will take care of you."

Sam made a face at him.  "Do not start that.  You have your own sugar daddy you mooch off of."

"What?  No, I don't.  I'm with a humble, salt of the earth college professor.  He's practically broke."

"Dude, shut up."

Cas and Jess exchanged looks.  It was a bit of a pain being siblings attached to another pair of siblings, but they could never agree on who had to give up their Winchester, so they just decided to live with it.  The room wasn't clearing at all, so Jess and Cas grabbed a Winchester each and led the bickering pair out of the courtroom.  They took the back exit so they could avoid the bulk of the crowd.  Sam's co-chairs were more inclined to do the press conferences, so he left it to them.

"We'll pick this up later," Sam said to his brother, and then to everyone, "I've got to head across the street for the filing of the judgment and then report to the ADA.  But, I'll be free this evening and I feel like we should definitely all go out to dinner to celebrate."

"I agree," Jess said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Sam.  "I have a client meeting at four, so I'll have to meet you guys there.  Cas, why don't you pick the restaurant?"

"Okay."

"Why am I not picking the restaurant?” Dean asked.

"Because nobody wants to eat at Shake Shack, sweetheart," Cas said, patting his shoulder.

The quartet said their goodbyes and Sam and Jess headed off in opposite directions.  Cas slipped his hand back in Dean's and leaned against him lightly as they walked down the New York City sidewalk with no destination in particular in mind.

"So," Dean began slowly.  "How are you feeling about all this?"

Cas inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly.  "I don't know.  I mean, obviously I'm happy that she's finally going to be where she belongs.  But...there are just so many heads to this snake that you have to wonder if someone else is running the Black Eyed Mafia now.  And I haven't spoken to Uriel in over a year.  I don't even know where he is or if he's okay."

"Cas."  Dean stopped walking and turned Cas by the shoulders to face him.  "I meant you.  How are _you_ feeling?"

"Oh.  Oh, you mean if I still feel like I should have been on trial with her."

"Yeah, that."

"Well.  To be honest, it has been cathartic teaching ethics classes to a bunch of freshmen.  It certainly does help one see the beauty in the grey."

"Do you still feel guilty about what happened?  Do you feel responsible?"

Cas shrugged a shoulder and nudged Dean to get him walking again.

"No, not really.  But you know what's funny?  I feel guilty for not feeling guilty."

Dean chuckled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hauling him in against his side.

"You are some kind of fucked up, angel."

"I am.  But you knew that when you met me."

"Yeah, some dude dropping a thousand bucks to get taste of my D at a family friendly charity auction?  I knew—oof!"

Cas flung his arm into Dean's gut.

"I did not purchase a date with Debonair Dean with the intention of going anywhere near his D."

"And yet...four years later, still can't get enough of it."

Cas was going to protest, but then he nodded his head.  "Yeah, that's true."

Dean laughed and kissed his temple.  They veered off course for a moment, but then righted themselves before they ran into a couple of tourists who had stopped right in the middle of the fucking sidewalk to take a picture.

"So, where do you want to eat?" Cas asked, but Dean held up a finger to ask him to wait a moment and dug his cell phone out of his pocket.

Dean's brow creased as he read the text message he'd just received.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I proposed marriage to you lately?"

Cas laughed and smiled up at his boyfriend.  "About two days ago actually."

"Hunh."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because your father just texted me saying, 'Sorry for the late reply.  Glad to hear the news!  Of course you may have Castiel's hand in marriage.  You have my blessing.  Joshua has offered to let you use his garden to hold the ceremony and/or reception.'"

Cas chuckled.  "Well, it’s good to know we could get a nice discount on the venue."

They walked a few more feet to an intersection and waited for the light to change.  Dean looked down at Cas.

"Did you say yes?"

Cas just smiled and held up his left hand.  Dean took his hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the O-ring pulled from a '66 Shelby Cobra on Cas' ring finger.  Dean grinned and laced their fingers together.

"Awesome."


End file.
